Grace ended up working for 10 hours every other day for the Monsieur. She had to cook meals for the whole day, scrub the filthy floors, and sew and wash the usually bloody linens and clothes. Playing with Mai was the one activity she looked forward to the most. She was teaching her how to act, sing, play the piano, and dance. Mai was such a shy, sweet child. She gave Grace the motivation to keep going every time she had a sharp pain or particularly difficult day. Mai deserved what Grace never had at her age, and she would do anything to give her that happiness.

   About once a week, Erik would ask her to fill in at a meeting for him or go down to the seamstress or props maker and ensure his orders and designs were being carried out exactly as he asked. And he was teaching her for an hour in the evenings to perfect her singing, which usually led to another hour of them just talking. A few times they had dinner together.

  Six hours of her day was devoted to dancing. Three to Rodger, George, and Nora. And of course, every morning, she went out for a run with Leo.

   Then there was Guy. He demanded they constantly go on aimless walks around the theatre. Erik noticed how Guy seemed to distract Grace, and the way her irritation around him always increased, yet she never said no. And where was she going in the mornings? He had watched her from the shadows, sneaking out sometimes before the sun rose, and she insisted her lessons could never be before nine. She began to turn paler and dark circles lined her eyes. It was clear to him she was lacking sleep and energy.

   Nora, George, and Rodger began to believe she was going through a tough time from her accident. But she had been fine for so long, and they didn't see an added strain. Yet this was the only logical thing they could think of.

   She had no choice but to confide in Rodger though. She figured she could sleep in a little longer if he could walk Leo for her. He had chosen to lengthen his trip by an additional two weeks after all. Might as well put him to work.

     Nothing really bad happened until the closing night. Grace felt her muscles cramping, and her head and back ached, but she danced perfectly, making it to the end of the show. But the agony was developing from her aches.

    Nora, George, and Rodger were there, waiting as the curtain fell, chatting with Christina Nilsson while Erik sat in his hidden box, viewing both the front and back of the stage, coming down only as the curtain began to close.

   Grace's arms wrapped around her midsection as she stumbled forward, into a wall.

    Rodger raced to her, and she barely noticed him as she collapsed, biting back a scream of pain. Her lungs were on fire, and her bones felt like lead weights. She had gone too far today. Overstepped her injured body's boundaries.

    "George send for her doctor!" Nora shouted.

    The three rushed away from the incoming crowds, to the living quarters.

   Grace writhed in Rodger's arms, her nails digging into his neck and back.

   George and Nora were going to meet him at her room after they sent a telegram to her doctor.

       But before he reached the door, the two came face to face with Erik.

   "What is wrong with her?"

   "Get out of the way, please. I don't think you've any right to ask."

   "Rodger... it's... the owner." Grace hissed out.

     "Did you do something to her?" Erik asked, opening the door to her room, letting Rodger in.

  "Of course not, I'm on her side here," Rodger scoffed. "Go be a knight in shining armor somewhere else, sir. Or whatever you French fellows do. Now is not the time to romance."

   He carefully placed her on her bed. "Rodge, that's rude." She turned on her side, letting out a wheeze. "I can't breathe."

   "Damn it. Let's get that corset off for one thing."

    "What? I think not!" Erik stepped forward, about to block this rakish man.

    "Have you a knife?" Rodger asked, patting his own pockets. "I don't usually take mine to operas you know."

   "Less talking. Need air." Grace contorted in pain, feeling as if she were being cut.

   Before Erik's eyes, Rodger gave up trying to search for a knife and started undoing her costume.

  "No, get him out!" She said.

   "Right, sorry. I forgot. Okay, please get out - Nora! Nora help me get Grace's corset off, George, be a doll and take this fellow out please?"

   Grace's mother rushed in, and her father started dragging Erik out by his arm.

   "I'll explain a bit if you'll come," he said.

   Erik followed. "You'd allow a man your daughter wasn't married to to see her naked?"

   "Well, not naked, she has on her undergarments, I'm sure. But yes. It's Rodger," he said good-naturedly.

   Erik, for the first time in his life, was beyond comprehension.

     "Don't be so surprised. And don't worry about our Gracie. She'll be fine. It's happened before. The doctor was sent for."

   "Good. She needs one. When will he come?"

   "Two weeks or so -"

  "Two weeks?"

    "Yes. America is -"

   "America? What is wrong with you, get a French physician, she's hurt!"

    George was somehow still jovial. "No, she's not. We've been through this before. Just over worked herself."

  "I haven't had her do anything that she hasn't already been doing, how could she be over worked?"

   George frowned now. "Well why should you have her do something? You aren't in charge of her."

   "Excuse me, could you hand this to Grace?"

  Great, now Guy was in the picture. The idiot passed Grace's father a note. "I certainly can young man, thank you."

   Rodger poked his head out, eyes widening slightly at Guy. "You can come in now."

   He made way for George but stopped Erik.

   "Oh not you. She doesn't want you." And the door was slammed in his face.

   He turned to Guy. "Run before I do something you'll regret."

     They had covered the wall, so Erik couldn't even make sure she was alright. Damn them.

   Grace however, was fine. She began to breathe more easily, and slowly the pain faded as she spread out on her bed. But she had to be careful. Unfortunately, Guy wanted her to meet him in one of the rooms used for rehearsal at midnight. That gave her a good three hours to rest and sleep, and she did have the day off tomorrow - at the theatre that is, she still had to go to the Monsieur's  - so she decided she might as well go see what Guy wanted.

    Unfortunately, further more, he was drunk when she arrived, and she could smell the liquor coming off of him from across the room. Rodger had also gone out tonight. She smiled to herself, knowing he'd make fun of this kind of drunk behavior.

   Somewhat back to her old self, or at least out of pain, she played whatever game it was Guy wanted.

   "Hello. Why am I here?"

   "You slut."

   "Excuse me?"

    "Rodger and you. And Erik. You know Véronique wouldn't even take two at once."

   "What?" Was he slurring and she was mishearing him or was he really insulting her?

   "Well have me too why don't you. Add a third you bitch."

    "What -" but she wouldn't finish.

   Guy slammed her into a wall, his hot mouth over hers, foul smelling and vile tasting.  The minute he moved she screamed and kneed him in the stomach. She kept screaming as he shoved her into the wall again, cursing. She could not allow this but the memories this triggered were devastating and so crippling.

   The door opened and Guy was being dragged out. Next thing she knew, someone was helping her up.

  "Oh! Monsieur Monteguarde, thank you," said Grace. Who would have guessed, Christina's lover knew how to fight. And he was passing through at the right time.

   "Oh Mademoiselle, anytime. Think nothing of it. A man who takes advantage of a woman deserves to be beaten. Did I arrive in time?"

   "None of your business - Yes!"

   "Pardon?"

  "Yes, and thank you!"

                         🌹

     "Ma coeur, où est Erik ? "

   "In his office, I think. Why Pierre?"

   "Because, my love, I must report an event to him regarding two of his dansers."

                                🌹

             "Guy!" Erik screamed. Grace wouldn't answer him nor allow him anywhere near her, and he wanted to know just what happened at midnight and why Pierre of all people had been the one to report it.

   He found Guy with a bottle, drinking straight from it.

  Erik theatrically took it from him and hurled it across the room, ignoring Véronique,  who was in her undergarments, cowering in Guy's bed, fearful of Erik's rage.

   "What happened between you and Grace?" He grabbed him by the collar, feeling his lasso that temptingly sat in his pocket.

    "I wanted the graceful little bird. It didn't want me back."

  Erik shoved him. "So you tried to force yourself on her?"

   "It's not like it's a new thing to her! She's a whore!"

   "How dare you speak of her like that!" He reached for his lasso. There was nothing more foul in this world then men like Guy. He didn't deserve to have his feet touch the floor of this theatre and his end could hardly count as a murder.

    Guy laughed. "If you knew what she's been up to, she'd be in my place right now."

   Erik loosened his grip. "What do you mean? Are you accusing -"

    "No, not accusing. I'm telling you. I blackmailed her, but a woman like her deserves it. She's already low. I saw her coming out of that brothel on Grande Street, that Rodger fellow was with her. I went another time, and she was there for three hours. Came out sweaty and messy, if you know what I  -"

  Guy screamed as Erik sent him staggering across the room after raking his broken nails down his cheek.

   Tomorrow, Erik would follow Grace and find out just what was going on. Blinded by confusion and rage all he knew was that he would get his revenge if this was true. But he hoped, oh how he hoped, this was not true.