Seal My Fate•Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction

Chapter 20: Seal My Fate

Hey peeps, I completely forgot to put an author's note here when i published the chapter, but TheViolinJedi kindly reminded me, and after much consideration and thought (really just me forgetting), I have decided to add one in.

As always, of course, I love you all, and I hope you enjoy these last few chapters of the story. Happy (late) Saturday!

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Meg

It had been a few weeks since Christine had told me her strange story. Don Juan Triumphant would open tonight, and though it was hardly dawn, everyone was already up and about. There was more to this than just a show—and Christine seemed convinced that it would not go smoothly.

"Emma," she'd called herself.

If her story was true, I needed to help her. She would know better than anyone else what was in store for us and how to fix it. I knew her heart—she wanted everyone—everyone—to be okay. Yes, she'd been weird for the past few months—or as she put it, "since the plot began"—but I'd known her for much longer than that. She was a kind and compassionate person.

The only problem I had was with her story itself. She claimed to be from another world entirely, that she had somehow been transported into her favorite fictional story. Was that realistic? Was it even possible?

Of course it was possible. Anything was possible. But this? Given my experience with reality, it seemed highly unlikely. Really, it all came down to who I trusted more: my sense of reality or my sister.

And I trusted Christine. I trusted her with everything fiber of my very being, and people's lives depended on me. Perhaps, just this once, I could suspend my gut reaction in the name of believing a strange tale—in the name of trusting her. She was a good person and it had never been anything less than crystal clear that she was perfectly sane.

I turned, sighing, to see my sister talking to a wall.

Christine

"Is it true?"

Erik tried to mask his frustration by using his strict teacher tone, but I could hear the anger underneath it. Not that it was the scary anger—I had no fear of what he might do to me—it was more frustration, more Erik mad at himself for not figuring it out sooner.

"What I told Meg? Every word," I answered. There was a moment of silence before he responded.

"You lied to me."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I didn't think anyone would believe me."

"Hm."

"That's how I knew your name," I muttered.

No response—he'd figured as much.

"Look, Erik," I sighed, "I didn't mean to hurt you." I looked up at the nearest wall, hoping it was the one he was hiding behind. "You know, you lied to me too."

"Christine..."

"You told me you were my angel," I continued, "did you not?"

"You knew! You knew it was a lie and you played along!"

"Oh, how dare I!"

I was greeted only with silence. In that silence, the verbal bullets I'd fired at the man cooled down, and I should have been able to do the same—but I chose to continue yelling at him instead.

"You know what?" I shouted, breaking the silence with as much force as I could, "I'm glad I hid this from you! Because if I hadn't, there's no telling what other lies you would have fabricated that I might have actually believed!"