After the performance, Catherine met up with Matt and they immediately headed to the former's apartment.

"How did I do?" Catherine asked eagerly.

"I was speechless, really," Matt grinned. "Phenomenal."

Catherine blushed. "Thank you." She sat down on the couch and winced in pain.

Matt looked up from his phone in alarm. "You okay?!"

"I'm alright. Just a bit sore, that's all," Catherine replied, massaging her sore thighs. "You told me to take it easy, so I came home, laced up my pointe shoes, and danced around for a bit. Mainly did jumps and about a thousand fouetté turns. Now my legs and back hurt."

"Need a rub?" Matt smiled, flopping his stuff down on the couch.

"Yes," Catherine sighed, biting her lip.

Matt sat down beside her and placed two strong hands on her shoulders. "This okay?"

"Heavenly," Catherine replied, as a moan of pleasure escaped her lips.

"Man, are you tense," Matt noted in surprise. "You've got some monster knots."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Catherine laughed. "They hurt like heck too."

Matt frowned as he put his hand on the side of her waist, "This one just won't give in."

Catherine's eyes widened. "Leave it. It's not a...it's nothing. Forget it," she said quickly.

Matt slowly pulled his hand away. "Cath...you should see a doctor. That doesn't feel right."

"It's fine," Catherine said a bit defensively.

Matt asked firmly, "Cath, let me look at it?"

Catherine shook her head and attempted to push him away, but was unsuccessful.

"Come on," he laughed with a small smile, grabbing her hands, "I'm not gonna hurt you, I swear. Just let me make sure you didn't hurt yourself. I won't look without permission."

Catherine sighed. He was going to find out eventually. She might as well let him see now. "Fine."

Matt's face fell serious and he gently pulled up the back of her shirt. "My God," he whispered with wide eyes. "Catherine, what happened to you?!"

"It's a long story...A year before my sister died, we went on a camping trip. Purely by coincidence, one of the girls that had been bullying me was there too. On our second day there, she confronted me. My parents had gone for a walk and my sister was in the tent, calling her boyfriend. I was all alone when the girl just came up to me. She started one of her long speeches about me being ugly and she was saying that I didn't deserve to live. I was so timid and afraid that I couldn't stand up to her. I just stood there and let her trash me...After a few minutes, she called me an idiot for the fourth time. She said that I was too stupid to stand up for myself. She shoved me and I tripped and fell into the fire. I couldn't get up, because I had twisted my knee, hurting it pretty badly. I don't remember much from that point. I remember screaming and my sister came running over in hysterics. The next thing I knew, I blacked out and woke up and intensive care three days later. I was in so much pain that I couldn't even move. My sister was sitting at the side of the bed, clutching my hand for dear life. Her eyes were red and puffy; she had been crying nonstop. It took a long time for me to recover. Lotte helped me through the worst of it. No matter what, she would drop everything to be by my side," Catherine sighed. "Lotte beat up the girl about a week after."

Matt let himself fall backward, collapsing into the couch cushions. "I should have been there," he mumbled, his face twisted in pain. "Regardless if it was impossible. Stuff like that shouldn't happen to any kid. Not ever."

"Accidents happen."

"They shouldn't," Matt shouted through clenched teeth. "Not to you."

Catherine moved closer to Matt and rested her head on his shoulder, intertwining her fingers in his. "I'm alright. You needn't worry."

"Does it hurt?" He asked softly.

"Sometimes. Usually when I have to wear the corset when playing Christine," Catherine replied, stroking Matt's arm gently.

Matt felt a shiver pass down his spine. "I'll talk to the costume designer then," he said under his breath, his mind clearly preoccupied in anger. "We used to have a good one, I forget what happened to her, but I know there's corset-less plans she left behind somewhere."

"It's quite alright. You don't need to get involved. I'm fine," Catherine comforted.

Matts head snapped upwards, eyes blazing. "It's not alright. It shouldn't have happened in the first place. The least we can do now is deal with the repercussions." He sighed, putting his hand behind her head. "We're a broken pair of collectors pieces aren't we?" He said with a sad laugh.

"I'm not completely broken. I have you," Catherine smiled as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Just then, there was a knock on the apartment door.

"Funny. I'm not expecting anyone," Catherine said with confusion.

"Want me to get it?" Matt said with a small laugh, pointing to his face.

"No, no, I'll get it," Catherine sighed, moving to the door. She opened it and gave a look of shock. "Dad?"

"Hi, Honey," the man replied.

"What?" Catherine choked.

"You look beautiful. Just like your sister."

"What are you...How did you..." Cath stammered.

"I came to see you," the girl's father explained. "You see...Who's that?" He asked, gesturing to Matt.

Matt quickly fashioned his mask that he had retrieved from Cath's room and gave a small salute, "Christopher Jacobs," he said slowly. "And who would you be...sir?" He spat the 'sir' at the end as if it were a questioning of dignity. No man alive smiles at a girl as distraught as Catherine looked without some disloyalty in his heart.

"I'm Catherine's father, Christopher Daei," the man replied. "Is this your boyfriend, Cath?"

"Don't call me that," Catherine spat.

"Fine. Is this your boyfriend, Catherine?" He corrected.

Catherine couldn't even respond. Here was the man who had hurt her, walked out on her when she was just fourteen. Why was he suddenly so interested in her love life? Or in her at all, for that matter?

Matt felt the tension, felt Catherine's hand quickly and nervously looking for his own. His jaw stiffened and he gently placed her behind him. "I'm her fiancé."

The man searched for confirmation in his daughter's eyes, but her gaze did not meet his. "Catherine, my daughter-"

"Is engaged to me," Matt finished, putting an arm around Cath's shoulders. "Did you come for the wedding? Did Cath invite you?" He marveled at his own ability to lie so naturally, with such ease.

"No. I came to speak with my daughter."

"Well, any congratulations," Matt said cooly, his eyes narrowing, "can be said to the both of us."

The man ignored Matt's comment. "Catherine, please. Just five minutes. Let me explain. Five minutes. That's all I'm asking."

"Babe?" Matt said slowly.

Catherine shook her head. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do to erase the pain he had caused her.

"Catherine," Christopher sighed, putting out an empty hand, "you don't have to talk to me, you don't have to like it. You just have to listen. It's about your mother."

"I don't want to hear it," she said weakly. "I know everything there was to know about Mother. Unlike you, she actually stood by me. Remember? She was the one who stayed. There's nothing you can tell me that I don't already know. Just leave. You aren't wanted her."

"Just- just hold on a minute, alright?" Chris spluttered with a sigh, "I have something for you. I just wanted to give it to you and read the note like I'm supposed to, okay? She wanted me to."

"Fine. Whatever."

Matt squeezed her hand with a reassuring glance. "You want me to wait in the guest room?"

"No, stay," Catherine said, pulling him closer.

Christopher stared blankly. "Catherine Daei, please, for your mother's and sister's sake. Can I speak to you alone?"

"You came into my house uninvited. You are in no position to make any sort of demands," Catherine spat coldly.

"You're right," Chris mumbled, digging through his coat pocket. He produced a small but crumpled sheet of paper. "But your Mother is. First paragraph, second line. "'To be read alone with our Cath'."

Catherine unfolded the piece of paper and read it. "What is this?"

"Was in an old box. I found it when moving out of the old house years ago," Chris explained. "Your Mother mentioned a memory box in her will. She left it to you. It just...took me a while to find you."

"So, what is it?" Catherine asked impatiently.

"It was nothing important," Chris shrugged. "Some of your sisters grade school papers, a few sheets of music. But I brought what she told me too. And if your bodyguard will leave, I'll get to giving it to you and be on my way."

"Alright," Catherine replied, her tone still cold. She nodded for Matt to leave the room.

Chris mouthed thank you as Matt eyed him cautiously. "Now," he sighed, "I think you best sit down."

"I thought you said five minutes."

"It takes you more than five minutes to sit down?" Christopher replied with a little laugh. "Go on, take a seat. I'll get straight to reading."

"Fine," Cath spat.

Chris took the note and began reading. "'Dearest Cath," he began with a heavy sigh, "'I hope this letter finds you, and that you have found my box. I have enclosed some cash and also a family possession very close to my heart.'" He raised up his head and gave a small laugh. "I've gone and spent the money already, don't you worry about that."

"Just like you to think of yourself first," Catherine muttered under her breath.

"I spent it getting here to give you this," he explained, producing a small black box. He gave a sad smile. "Though, with that fancy fiancé of yours, I doubt you'll be needing another one."

"Is this the ring that belonged to my great grandmother?" Catherine questioned in surprise.

Chris nodded. "The one your sister was wearing..I thought it was lost. Your mother must have saved it Lord knows how long." He turned his attention back to the note. "'My Charlotte was to inherit this ring. I gave it to her on her sixteenth birthday, and she in turn was to give it to you.'" He gave a small nervous glance to his daughter and then back to the letter. "There's a bit more, but nothing you'd wanna hear." He handed her the small black box.

Catherine took it, not meeting her father's gaze. So, at long last, here was the ring. The ring that her sister had longed for her entire life.

Christopher glanced at his daughter's hand, noticing the other ring that she wore. "Have you taken it off since she died?"

"Only for performances," she muttered.

You see, many years ago, Charlotte had a ring with a small blue stone in the middle. It was something she had had since she was about twelve. When she died, it was given to Catherine.

This other ring, however, had sentimental attachments to both Lotte and Catherine's mother. Cath had forgotten about it completely until today.

"I know you hate me, Cathy," Chris whispered, looking at her grievously, "but just one phone call would have done."

"You left me," Catherine spat. "I owe you nothing."

"Who was going to walk you down the aisle?!" Chris exclaimed. "Why does he wear a mask? I'm your father, Cath. You might not owe me anything, but there are basic things I'm entitled to know."

"My best friend Mariah is going to walk me down the aisle, but of course, you wouldn't know that. You don't know me at all. As for why he wears a mask, that's none of your business. Now, get out of here before I call the police."

Chris frowned. "Now listen to me, Cath. There were more reasons for me leaving than your little proud mind can pretend to know. I'll leave it at that, but you best not to judge people on your own flawed opinions."

"Shut up! Just shut up! This is my house. You have no right to come here and insult me. Haven't you done enough damage to me?...Just leave. I can't stand to look at you anymore," Catherine exclaimed, choking back tears.

Author's Note: The picture to follow shows Catherine's great grandmother's ring, and the second picture shows Lotte's ring.