"Maman!" Megan Elizabeth Giry said with a bright smile, throwing herself into her mother's open arms. Madame Giry embraced her daughter fondly, squeezing her tightly and pecking her on the cheek. For five long years they had been separated, following the strange events of the Opera House. Little Meg, as she had once been called, had been sent to England following Christine Daae's marriage to Raoul de Chagny. There she had attended the finest ballet and music school, graduating with honors and achieving some success in London theaters.

But it had not been enough to succor her. Night after night Meg had dreamed of warm Paris nights, of dancing in the old Opera House, of her mother. Unable to take it any longer, she had packed her possessions and boarded the first ship back to France. Meg had never been as uncertain of her future as she had been sailing on that ship. Her mother had no idea she was returning to France, and while Meg secretly hoped to get a job at the Opera House, that was uncertain, too.

But now, Meg was with her mother again, and she felt her courage returning. It had been an odd but pleasant coincidence to run into her mother outside of the Opera House on that fine summer afternoon. When she first caught her mother's eye, Madame Giry had not been sure it was Meg at all.

The years had been kind to Meg, transforming her angelic adolescent beauty into the breathtaking woman she was now. She had grown tall, and her body was lithe and graceful, seeing as she had been a dancer all her life. She still had her golden hair, and her liquid brown eyes, but her skin was creamy and soft, and her little mouth was pretty and pink, turning up into a delightful smile at seeing her mother.

At last Madame Giry had recognized her beloved daughter, and had happily welcomed her into her arms. But after the initial joy came the questions. "Meg, what are you doing here? You should be in England, studying! Why have you come back? Has something happened?"

Antoinette Giry had a kind of beauty that was ageless. She looked almost exactly as Meg had always known her, though the lines around her all-knowing blue eyes were a bit deeper, perhaps. But she was the same in every way else, even down to her long hair which was still coiled on top of her head. A glimmer of worry was in her eyes, and Meg was quick to explain.

"Maman, please, don't be angry. I…I've decided to come home at last. I loved England, and I loved the school, and, well, I was happy. But…"

"But sometimes," Madame Giry interrupted, "It is simply time to come home, no, little one?"

"Oh, Maman!" Meg gushed, falling back into her mother's warm embrace. "I knew you'd understand. At least, I'd hoped so." Meg found that she was unable to control the tears that came to her eyes. For a moment they stood there, mother and daughter, oblivious to the busy world around them, reconnecting in a way that only a mother and her child could.

At last Meg raised her head, grinning despite the tears clinging to her face. Clucking, Madame Giry wiped them away with her soft hands. "Meg, my love, I am happy you're home. Of course, you'll need to explain things more to me later. I can barely hear with all of the noise around us." Meg glanced around, nodding her agreement. Vendors stood selling their wares, men in business suits walked by yelling loudly, and women with screaming children brushed past them.

"The Opera House is my home again, Meg, and yours too now, I suppose," Madame Giry told her daughter, linking her arm with her daughters and leading her towards the grand building. "You will find it is quite the same as it was, though everything is obviously new. The new manager is a Monsieur Barton, an English man. They've just completed auditions for the new Company, and shortly they are to begin work on their first production. I, of course, am to instruct the chorus girls in ballet. I do not suppose you have come to help me in that regard?"

"I'm afraid not, Maman," Meg said with surprising certainty. "I know now is not the time to tell you this, but I don't want to be a teacher. You are the greatest teacher I have ever known, and I will never be as wonderful as you. I am still young, and I can still be a chorus girl."

"My daughter, still a chorus girl?" Madame Giry questioned in surprise. "Nonsense. After the schooling you've been through, you shall be a marvelous dancer. We shall talk to Monsieur Barton and find you a place in the Company. One that is suitable for your talent and my pride in you."

Meg grinned, content to be with her beloved mother again. They had reached the doors to the Opera House. Madame Giry unhooked her arm and threw the doors wide open with great aplomb. She stepped inside like a queen returning to her palace, and Meg followed behind. As her mother had said, the Opera House looked almost exactly the same. One new improvement that was immediately noticeable was the stone fountain in the center of the foyer, bubbling merrily with crystal clear water. Madame Giry picked up her black skirts and ascended the marble staircase, heading for the left. Meg followed in silence, lost in a wave of thoughts and memories.

Meg had been a witness to the strange events that had taken place five years before. She had watched Christine spiral downward into such a web of murder and intrigue as had never before been known to the young girls. She had seen the famed Opera Ghost with her own eyes, and still possessed a belonging that had once been in. There was a question that burned within her, one that she had never dared before asked her mother; did the Opera Ghost still exist? She knew the police had declared him killed in the fire, and Christine and Raoul had completely wiped him from their minds. But could he have survived the fire? Did he still wander the catacombs, broken and in despair? Or did he long for revenge? That seemed the more likely path, if he were still alive.

They had arrived before the doors that led to the managerial suites. An engraved golden plaque read on the door E. BARTON. Madame Giry knocked firmly on the door, and then turned to her daughter with a smile of comfort. "Do not worry, little one," she told Meg softly. "We will settle you in here, and then look forward to your future. I am too happy that you are here to be angry with you, I confess."

The door flew open before she could continue. Standing there was a tall blonde man with the greenest eyes Meg had ever seen. Green eyes that she recognized. The man before them obviously recognized Meg in return. He stood there with his mouth slightly open, his handsome face revealing his surprise. "Meg? Meg…what are you doing here?" His voice was rich and soft with a British accent.

"Edmund," Meg returned in a quiet voice. "I…well…"

"You have met my daughter, Monsieur Barton?" Madame Giry spoke up, watching their exchange with ill-hidden interest.

"Yes, I have, Madame Giry. Only…I didn't know you were related, let alone she was your daughter…"

"I see," Madame Giry said quietly.

"We met in England when I first arrived," Meg said, turning to her mother to avoid Edmund's burning gaze. "We parted a year later. He was very kind to me."

Edmund seemed to have finally regained control, and stood up straight. "Meg, I am so pleased to see you again. I knew we'd cross paths again someday, but I never dreamed it would be under these circumstances. I'm just so…pleased!"

"Yes, you said that already," Madame Giry said curtly. "Monsieur Barton, Meg has returned from England hoping to receive employment here. She is a dancer, as I'm sure you know, and the very finest I have ever seen or taught, if I may say so. Surely you have a position that is suitable for her."

"But of course," he said huskily, his eyes searching to meet Meg's. She would not meet his gaze, staring instead at her demurely folded hands. "We would be honored if Meg would join the Company as a lead dancer. If I'm not mistaken, she sings, as well."

"Yes, she received more vocal training while in England," Madame Giry agreed. She could see how uncomfortable Meg was, and quickly ended the exchange. "Monsieur Barton, thank you, but Meg has had a long voyage, and I wish her to come with me now to rest. I'm sure you can catch up on things later. Au revoir." Madame Giry took Meg's hand firmly and led her away. Meg stumbled along behind her, all the while feeling Edmund's gaze piercing into the back of her.

At last they rounded a corner. Meg relaxed somewhat, and her mother was blessedly kind and asked no questions…yet. Meg had asked her luggage to be delivered to the Opera House, but was unsure if it had arrived yet. Madame Giry stopped at the door next to her own, and pulled out a large key ring that held dozens of tiny gold keys. Unlocking the door, she pulled Meg into the large room.

"This is the room for the lead dancer, my child. Conveniently, they are next to mine. Get some rest now, and we'll chat later about…about everything." She pecked her daughter on the cheek, and with one last worried glance, left the room.

At last Meg was alone. The room was spacious and beautiful, with a large window affording a beautiful view to the street below. Sinking onto the bed, her eyes stared at nothing at all. Lost in her thoughts, she gently laid down on the bed. Meg Giry had left England to find comfort back home with her mother, only to run into the one man she had hoped never to see again. What was to happen now?