Page 67 of Angel’s Flight (The Phantom Saga #4)
H is sister did not take many visitors, not since her condition had become visible, so Raoul was surprised to hear Sabine in conversation with someone in the parlor.
It was his house, and Sabine was under his supervision, so he saw nothing wrong with opening the door to discover who had breached their seclusion.
“Raoul!” Sabine cried as he entered, but he ignored her. His attention was on the man who had risen to meet him. He was exceedingly ordinary, with thinning hair, a neat suit, and spectacles. “This is private.”
“What is your business with my sister?” Raoul demanded, ignoring Sabine’s ire.
“Concluded,” the man replied coolly.
“Monsieur Bidaut is an investigator,” Sabine said. “He is the one who I tasked with the matter of Antoine’s estate and he has finally come through.”
Raoul felt like he had been holding the same tension for months - a cord around his neck that had slowly been tightening as their finances grew worse and worse - and suddenly it was gone. “Well, that’s good news,” Raoul sighed.
“And where are you going?” Sabine asked sourly, looking pointedly at Raoul’s coat and the hat in his hands.
“Out. See yourself in the same direction,” Raoul said to Bidaut.
With a curt nod to Sabine, he left them.
He could, he supposed, have stayed to celebrate with his sister, but she was difficult to tolerate lately.
Raoul had never really been around a pregnant woman before and he wondered if they were all so emotional or if it was his sister’s particular tragic circumstances that made things so.
He decided not to dwell on it. She’d found them some goddamn money and he was grateful.
It was one less thing to worry about, thank God.
Raoul had other matters to attend to, like the eager girl who sprang from the park bench to greet him.
He did not like how small she was, nor was her overly cheerful demeanor endearing, but Blanche’s face was nice enough to look at, and she did love to gossip.
“I was worried you’d be late, Monsieur le Comte,” Blanche giggled as she reached him.
“I'm a navy man, Mademoiselle Carcaux,” Raoul replied, trying to remember how to be charming. “I live and die by time.”
“You’d do wonderfully at the Opéra. They’re very strict there,” Blanche replied. Raoul was certain she meant it as some flirtation. It was not effective.
“I doubt that,” he muttered.
“Are sailors suspicious types?” Blanche asked as they began walking through the yellowing trees. “Artists are. But, of course, you know all about the Opéra.”
What a tactless young thing she was, Raoul mused. “Yes. I do.”
“Someone told me that every theater has a ghost,” Blanche went on, blithely unaware of how deeply Raoul was frowning. He had known to expect this in conversation with her, but that didn’t make it easier to be reminded of the worst days of his life and the man who had caused them.
“Luckily for everyone, yours is gone,” Raoul muttered.
“Why would you say that?” Blanche asked with a laugh, and Raoul stopped in his tracks. “Ghosts don’t go away.”
“I’m sure the legends and superstitions continue.” Raoul’s throat felt tight as he forced out the words. This had been a mistake. He should have stayed away and minded his business and not let his curiosity about the Opéra lead him to this.
If he had done that, Blanche wouldn’t be looking at him in wonder and bewilderment. “Haven’t you heard? I guess you wouldn’t have, since you’ve been away.”
“Heard about what?” Raoul demanded, against all his better judgment.
“About the attacks. On the patrons! There have been at least four,” Blanche said, sweet and na?ve.
She didn’t know that her words were an explosion in Raoul de Chagny’s mind.
Even so, he could stop. He could dismiss her and let it all go, were it not for the nagging feeling that had been with him for months, The emptiness of unanswered questions.
The void of suspicion and doubt that pulled him into nightmares night after night.
“What attacks?” he asked, knowing the answer might seal his doom.
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Erik and Christine’s story will continue in...
Angel’s Song
2026