As Christine walked toward the vast building, she gave one last glance over her shoulder. The city looked so full of life, many people weaving their way through crowds, while others gazed through shop windows. She had never felt the way she did, as she walked up the steps to the opera populaire. Her Father had frequently talked of this place, as a place of beauty and music. But now as she looked at this place all she could feel was fear.
When her Father had fallen Ill, he had told her to come to this place if things took a turn for a worse. He had said that it was a place of sanctuary and that he would send the angel of music to guide and guard her in his place.
Christine felt tears come to her eyes as she thought of her Father. Her best friend. Gustave Daae, was a respected man, who was heard of throughout all of France, for he was one of the most phenomenal violinists in the country. His music would send Christine to sleep at night, and wake her at morning.
Lost in thought she did not notice the woman standing at the door of the opera. She had a slightly pinched face, and her long black hair was placed in a tight bun on the top of her head. She wore a black dress; more practical than fashionable. Christine suddenly felt a sense of relief as she saw the woman though, for the woman gave her an encouraging smile.
" Hello Christine" The woman had said Christine's name! Christine took a step back, startled by the fact that the woman knew of her name. " My name is Madame Giry. Your father wrote to me a few weeks ago informing me of you coming here soon. I am sorry to hear of your loss but I hope that you will find that you may be able to rely on me if needed."
Christine was confused by what the woman had just told her. She had never heard her Father say Madame Giry's name. It had not occured to her that her father would've arranged for her to come here, in advance. But even so, she had no where else to go. So she took the hand Madame Giry offered to her, and was lead inside.
" I have a daughter around the same age as you. Her name is Megan. Or Meg for short. You are 14, are you not?"
" Oui Madam. I turned 14 last October." Christine mumbled, slightly still shy talking to someone new.
" Oh child. There is no need to be shy. Once you meet Meg, she will practically force you to talk" At Christine's startled look, Madame Giry added " I was only joking dear. No need to look so panicked"
Then Christine stepped into the Opera Populaire. Her home for many years to come. Little did she know that someone was watching her.