Many of the prominent members of the cast followed David and Specs hurriedly to the Opera House. Everyone wanted to hear what the Ghost had written. Even Sarah found herself a little curious.

Jack, on the other hand, lingered behind.  "Stop," he hissed, as he reached out and grabbed Moe's arm, preventing her from leaving. "You know something, don't you? Something that nobody else knows about Him."

Moe stared at him for a moment, then pulled her arm away. "Of course I don't, I have no idea what you're talking about," she told him hastily and began to walk away. Jack stepped in front of her before she got three steps, though.

"No, I really think you do. Tell me, now." Jack crossed his arms and stood directly in front of her. Moe stared at him again, and then sighed.

"Please," Jack persisted.

"Alright, alright. It was years ago. I was traveling through the city. There were tumblers, and oddities … freaks of nature…" She paused.

"Right, right, go on…" Jack urged her.

"Well, I'll never forget him. It was a man, locked in a cage…"

"Locked in a cage…?" The horror on Jack's face was apparent.

"He was a prodigy! A scholar, architect, musician … they talked to no end about his talents."

"And he composed." The pieces were falling into place.

"An inventor, too, good sir. They said that he had built the Shah of Persia a maze of mirrors."

"Who was this man?"

"A human oddity. More of a monster than a man…"

"Deformed?"

"From his birth, it seems. Then he went missing. Escaped." She turned partially away from him, as if recalling the details of that time. "Some said that he died."

"But he didn't, did he?" Jack stepped a little closer, listening very closely to her words.

"The world forgot him, but no matter how I try, I never can. In the darkness of this year, I have seen him again. I see him. He is ever-present."

"So, this man … he's our phantom, our ghost, is he?"

Moe turned and stared at him. "I've said too much as it is. There have been far too many accidents." She turned and started to walk quickly away, almost running.

"Accidents?! I'd hardly call those accidents! A man is hung, that's not an accident!" Jack trotted some to catch up, then stopped, as he heard Moe's voice echo once more "too many …" as she turned the corner to go to the office where everyone else was now convened. Jack, too, made his way there, hoping that he might catch up with Sarah on the way.

Specs and David were seated at a table in the center of their office, poring over the score of their next opera, Don Juan Triumphant.

"This is ludicrous! How utterly ridiculous!" David growled, slapping the score shut.

"This is the last straw," Specs added.

"It's crazy! We can't do this script!"

"But, how can we refuse him … ?" David looked over at Specs after this comment and sighed.

"There's no way we could afford another chandelier," David admitted.

"Look what I have here," Specs said in a low voice. He waved a note around and then proceeded to open it.

"Dear, dear Mr. McCormick,

            About the orchestration of this opera. For this, we will need another first bassoon. It would be wise if you would find a player who has any agreeable tone to him at all. Also, that third trombone has got to go. The man could not be deafer, so you'd do best to find one who plays in tune."

At this time, David had also found a note, and had opened it. He scoffed, then proceeded to read it aloud for Specs's amusement.

"Mr. Jacobs:

            With this new opera, some of your chorus must be let go. If you could please, find out which of them has a sense of pitch, and you might give a minor role to the ones who cannot act."

"This is ridiculous!" Socks screamed, slamming her script onto the table.

"What is it now?" David sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Have you seen the size of my part?"

"Madame, listen— "

Skittery came up and put his arm around Socks. "This is an insult."

"Not you as well," Specs groaned.

"Well, it's an insult to my dear Socks!" Skittery maintained.

"The things I have to do for my art!" Socks huffed, wiping away a tear, which was not likely actually there.

"If you could call this art," Skittery agreed.

At that moment, Sarah walked through the door, closely followed by Jack and Moe. Others were grouped up close to the door, listening to the happenings within the office, though they could understand very little through the closed door.

"Oh, lookee, here, the little flower of the stage." Socks's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Aha, Miss Jacobs. Quite the lady of the hour," David agreed.

Sarah looked around in confusion.

"You have secured the largest role in this opera," Specs explained.

"She doesn't have the voice for it, as far as I'm concerned," Socks muttered.

"Socks, please!" David hissed.

"Then, I take it you're agreeing with her?" Jack asked angrily, glaring openly at Socks, then stepping closer to David.

"She's behind all this," Socks said in a low voice, to which Skittery nodded.

"It appears we have no choice but to do it this way," David said, to no person in particular.

"She's the one behind this! It's her doing! It's all Sarah's doing!" Socks yelled, unable to contain herself any longer.

"How dare you!" Sarah breathed, positively fuming. "You evil, evil woman! How dare you accuse me of something like this?"

"I'm not a fool! Do you think I'm blind? I'm not stupid!" Socks crossed her arms and shot a glare at Sarah.

"This isn't my fault! I didn't ask for any part in this! In fact, I'd just as soon not be in this at all!"

"But surely…" David protested.

"Why not?" Specs asked quickly, hoping that it wasn't Socks who had driven the girl away.

"What did she say?" Skittery asked Socks, apparently having not heard a single word of their exchange.

"I mean, it's your decision, obviously—" Specs turned and looked directly at her. "But why not?"

"You have a duty!" David added quickly, and rather hastily.

"She's backing out!" Socks answered Skittery triumphantly. That was just what she needed Sarah to do. Then she would be back in the hearts of the audiences, and Sarah would be back as chorus girl.

"I can't do it—duty or not." Sarah turned and faced Jack, then nestled into his arms.

"They can't make you do it. Only do it if you want to," Jack advised her.

"Please, sirs, another note," Moe informed them, holding out the menacing piece of paper.

David dropped into his chair and started massage his forehead. He waved his arm at her in gesture to read the note.

"Fondest greetings to you all," was written. "I have a few instructions before you begin rehearsals. Socks needs to be taught to act. Her normal trick of strutting around the stage will not work in this show. Skittery needs to gain some weight. You can hardly see him on the stage next to the women's costumes. My managers must learn that their place is in the office, not in the opera house.

As for Miss Sarah Jacobs: No doubt that she has a good voice. I'm sure she'll do her best. Though, should she wish to excel, as she has much still to learn, she should return to me, her teacher.

Your obedient friend, and angel,"

Moe looked up. Everyone knew who the note was from. There was no need to complete the statement.

Jack detached from Sarah's grasp and stepped forward, directly in the center. "We've been stupid and blind," he told them. "Here's the answer, looking right at us, and we didn't see it."

"We're listening," David said, raising his head and looking up at Jack.

"We'll play his game. We'll perform his opera, but remember that we hold the ace, because if Sarah sings, he's definitely going to be there."

Specs nodded ecstatically. "We make sure all the doors are locked up—"

"And that the police are there!" David added.

"The curtain falls, and his reign over the Opera House will end!" Jack finished triumphantly.

"Madness!" Moe shrieked. "That is pure madness! Are you trying to get yourselves killed?"

"Not if it works! The tide will turn! The House will be free once again!" David laughed, doing a little jig.

"Sir, believe me, there is no way of turning the tides on this battle."

"Stick to ballet!" Specs told her, getting somewhat angry. "That is your job, after all."

"Help us!" Jack suggested.

"No, no, I can't," Moe protested, fearfully.

"Instead of warning us, help us out! Tell us how to accomplish this most successfully!" David persisted, agreeing with Jack.

"I really wish I could," Moe told them, backing away slightly.

"Don't make excuses!" David ordered.

Jack paused and turned to her. "Or maybe it's that you're on his side…?" He suggested, angrily. Sarah was shocked at the display of wills, and was shaking her head ferociously at them all. She knew Moe was right. She couldn't help.

Moe stopped and squared off towards the three gentlemen. "Sirs, believe me—I intend you no ill will, but you know he will not hesitate to kill someone. We have seen him do it in the past many more times than I like to recount."

"If this works, you'll have freed us all from this hell, Jack!" David enthused. "Imagine what that means! No more fear in the opera house! No strings to pull, or toes to fear treading on!"

Specs was nodding ecstatically at Jack and grinning like a madman.

"It'll undo everything he's done up for himself! You two will actually be able to run the opera with nobody to tell you what to do!"

"Our opera! Imagine that!" Specs laughed. The glee exuding from the three men was incredible.

Sarah, on the other hand, was standing there, shaking her head mutely, and whispering "No, you can't. No …"

Socks noticed this and scoffed to Skittery. "Well, she certainly is quite out of her head. She wouldn't last long at all in my place before she lost it completely."

"How right you are," Skittery agreed, a smug smile on his face.

"Jack! You can't do this!" Moe warned in a low tone. "This is almost suicide on your part. You know he has no qualms with killing! Please…"

Her warnings fell upon deaf ears. To tell the truth, Jack had ceased to listen to her.

David was motioning around, to further the point he was making to Specs. "… And since Sarah's going to sing it for us, he'll come, and they'll get him. I can see it all so clearly. It's going to be wonderful!" Neither of them seemed to notice the agonizing fear on Sarah's face, nor the menacing look that Moe was giving each of the exuberant men.

"If you don't stop now, I'll go mad!" Sarah shrieked. All heads turned to her. Of course, Socks and Skittery started whispering further about her blatant insanity, and Jack came over and took her up into his arms. "Jack," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I'm scared. Don't make me do this. Please, please, don't. If I do this, he'll take me, and this time I won't ever be able to come back. Spot isn't a forgiving man."

"Spot…?" Jack asked in a confused voice. "Who is Spot?"

"It's his name … the Angel's name," Sarah answered him, no louder than before.

"Sarah, you yourself said that he was nothing but a man—a human…"

"So this is it, then?" Sarah said, a tear slipping down her face. She pulled away from him, and turned to face all the others in the room. "I have to go up there and sing, and risk my life, just to hope for the chance to live. And what if it doesn't succeed? He'll take me, and keep me there, and continue forever to sing his songs in my head."

"She's mad…" Socks hissed in Skittery's ear, staring blankly at the girl.

Jack went and stood in front of her and held her by the arms. He looked her straight in the eyes as he spoke. "Sarah, don't think that I don't care about you. I do care. I care more than I can say, but at the moment, all of our hopes for the Opera House rest upon you. You have to do this. Do it for me… Please?" He kept his eyes locked on hers very seriously.

Sarah's eyes welled up with tears, and she bit her lip, looking around the room at all the faces, watching her anxiously. She was overcome with all the emotions swelling inside her, and took off to the door. She opened it quickly, causing several of the chorus members to come tumbling in, front first. She paused, but only for a moment, and was running helter-skelter, for… well, nobody knew where.

Socks and Skittery walked quickly out of the room, talking quickly to one another, and ignoring all the chorus members who were chattering quickly about what they had just heard. The managers sat down at their desks and began to look over the score some more. On with the show, they figured.

Jack sighed and made his way outside. Well, he didn't know what was going to happen, either with the opera, or with Sarah and himself. He frowned hard as he stood, looking up at the prominent sign of the opera house. "So, it's war, is it? This time, I fear, Spot, or Phantom, or whatever it is that you call yourself, the disaster is going to be yours instead of one of ours. We're on our guard. You best be on yours." He didn't know who he was talking to in particular, but he had a feeling he'd been heard. Ignoring the strange looks he was receiving from the passers-by, he made his way home, plotting out what his role in this whole plan was going to be.