It was extremely challenging for Grace to herd everyone over to the theatre. Nora and Rodger kept stopping to talk to people, and George constantly wanted to take detours. Not to mention Leo, after ten minutes, gave up trying to help Grace and was bounding in every direction, too excited to be with his mistress and sit still. Nora's little dog, Clairy, continuously peed all over everything. When the group stopped to let her use the loo, Nora and Rodger began greeting the locals - and given the fact Rodger had learned French from Grace, this tended to take a while as she taught him as little as possible, not wanting at the time, anything to do with it - and then George would join in, and by that time Leopold would pick up a new scent and attempt to follow it either pulling Grace around with him, or causing her to scream for him to come back. She could kill Erik. With his commanding, authoritative presence, everyone would be going in the same direction, at the same pace.

     Erik was not as far off as she presumed though. In fact, several times, she came quite close to running into the man with many faces. Each time he was hidden, or disguised, or watching with a clear view from afar, and she had no idea.

     Rodger at last sensed Grace's irritation and said something about time to Nora and George.

   "Oh. Yes! Today is opening night, isn't? We don't want to be late," Nora confirmed.

   "No, it's tomorrow," said Grace.

    "Why don't we take a carriage, Pumpkin?" George asked.

   "Because I'd prefer not to."

    George frowned. "Oatcakes, you took one with us when we came back the first time. You can't still be afraid."

   "I'm not, I just want to limit the... amount of times I put myself at risk."

   "Oh don't worry George, I'll get our girl back up on that horse if I have to hold the reins myself," Rodger laughed. He took out a mirror as they walked and straightened his hair as if he hadn't said anything to begin with.

    "The getting back on the horse isn't the problem. Falling off of it again is. And I still ride. It's carriages I can't bear."

       Erik heard every word, and confusion couldn't cover what he felt. What on earth did a carriage have anything to do with whatever it was they were talking about? He recalled the jagged scar on Grace's shoulder. Leo's missing leg. Were they in a carriage accident? But then... she couldn't be Celine, if that was where her scar came from. Damn his memory, he blocked so many things out he couldn't even remember the patterns decorating the skin of his little friend from all those years ago. Not that it mattered, he told himself.

     He, unbeknownst to them, escorted the now silent but still cheerful group back to his theatre. Grace had told him they would be coming in to see rehearsal.

    He didn't mind her parents, but he hated Rodger.

                                      🌹

   
    Grace rose early the next day. She dressed in the most expensive thing she could find, stuffed a few francs in her reticule, and woke Rodger up to distract Nora and George for a few hours, until she got back. She had to do the business she had tried to do yesterday. If she didn't, she feared for her performance that night. Her nerves might get the better of her, and she needed to accomplish a lot in the four weeks Rodger would be in France. He was vital to her purchase.

    So at seven a.m. Grace set off for Grande Street.

    The streets of Paris in the morning were deserted of people, cool, and foggy. The brick and cobblestone under her feet sounded ominous as she walked, alone, afraid, and feeling braver than she had when she walked the same path as a child.

   The building she grew up in as a child loomed right where she left it. She had hoped it would be empty as much as she hoped, for a different reason, for it to be filled. It had not changed as she had expected. Instead of appearing more ragged, older, dustier, and more ramshackle, it was still clean, ageless, and tall. The red paint was not chipped. The sign with those disgusting words painted on it still hung high and perfectly straight, just below the roof. However there were no women hanging out the windows. There wouldn't be this early in the morning.

    Grace went around the back, her hands trembling. The alley was the same too.

     Shivering she knocked on the back door.

    "We're closed until - oh! Are you lost Mademoiselle?" Felicette, thirteen years older, with face paint caked onto her pale countenance in clumps, answered the door.

   She respectfully didn't meet Grace's eyes. A whore never looked into the eyes of a lady.

    "Felicette."

   "Je désolé, mademoiselle. Do I know you?"

    "Felicette... I'm Celine. I think Christoux -"

    "Celine!" Felicette cried out, throwing her withering arms out and wrapping them around her best friend's daughter. "Oh, Celi, my darling Celine."

    Her 'darling Celine' nearly choked on the heavy perfume she was wearing.

     "Come in! No one's up yet. Elle aime dormir."

      "Thank you."

   Grace stepped into the kitchen. It had changed: Catherine was missing.

      "What have you been up to - you look like you've done well for yourself. How are you?"

    And you look like you are falling apart on the outside as much as I am on the inside, Grace thought.

    "I am well, thank you. But... I don't have very much time today. I came really only to find a few things out. I want to visit, but now is not the time. Could you answer my questions though?"

   Felicette's bright red lips frowned in disapointment. "Yes, I suppose I can, chérie."

     "Is the Monsieur here?"

    "No. Not today. He is away on business... acquiring a new girl. There aren't many of us left you know, not many from your time. I'm the cook now. Victorique, Maria, and Avril are the only ones left from when you were here. The two new ones, Mariette and Anya are sweet though. But very young - and I have a daughter! A little girl, Mai. She reminds me of you. She is ten though," Felicette's face fell. "The Monsieur wants her to become one of us."

   Grace smiled. "Well she won't. That's why I came today. I am going to rescue you. I plan on making that beast an offer he can't refuse."

   "Oh bless you, but he hates you, ma enfant. And what could you offer him?"

   "What he wants most." Grace leaned closer and took Felicette's hand in hers, still smiling. "Money. Thousands of francs. He can't refuse, and then you and your daughter, and the other women will be free. You'll never be in a situation like this again."

   "How do you know he'll except a single payment?"

   "Because they do it in America."

   "But Americans are stupid."

   Grace decided not to take offense to that.

    "Then I'll figure out another way, but I'm sure he will."

    Grace noticed the calluses on Felicette's hands. "What have you been up to?"

    "I do the housekeeping now. I'm thirty three, dear. Not many men want to take me upstairs any more when there are younger women available."

   "Ah. But... oh no. I've been here fifteen minutes. I have to go."

   Grace stood from her place at the table, heading towards the door.

   "You shall see the light of the sun again, Felicette, as a free woman."

   "Thank you, I hope you're right. I've lost so much hope."

    "I am always right. But... now, I must ask. Where is Catherine?"

   Felicette's brows knit.

   "C-cook?" Grace tried again.

   "Oh, oh Celine, Cook..." but Grace knew before she finished. "Cook died last year."

             Grace had run back to the theatre, and now she was in hysterics, trying as quietly as she could to race up to her room and reach its privacy.

   However, her door was stuck, and she was so distraught she couldn't properly turn her key and open the door. She didn't realize she was attracting attention when she started slamming her hand against the door, releasing a sob when it still wouldn't open.

    A gloved hand sneaked around her and swiftly turned the handle, allowing her entrance to her room, but she was startled and turned too quickly, running into her assistant.

   "Why are you screeching - crying. Are you alright?" Erik's concerned cool eyes drifted over her face.

   She ended up slamming the door and shouting that she was indisposed at the moment.