Erik’s tale is off with my beta readers. I wonder what they’ll think of this crazy little book that possessed me for months.
Erik took a breath and drew the first wailing note. He played like he always did: like a man possessed. Music possessed him, as it always had and always would. And while it possessed him, it enchanted those around him. He had used it to deceive Christine, to ensnare her mind and her voice. Now he played it to entertain, to brighten the life of a kind old woman, and perhaps, in a way, even to thank M. Daae.
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