The sun ripples in through the frosty air, snow sparkles like diamonds as it clings to the earth that is slowly coming alive again. A little hand reaches up to leave its mark on the foggy window pane. A woman watches, wearing a gentle smile as she shifts her gaze from the child to the enchanting scene outside. She is Christine Daae’, or as she has been better known for the past ten years: Christine De’Changy. Once known to have great potential and fame in the arts of musical performance, left her career prematurely to live in the country as a dedicated wife and mother. The “Angel of Music” no longer sings; no, she is no angel, not in her own eyes. A sweet face and naïve mind does not rightfully earn such a title. The real Angel of Music is far away, where the woman of present wishes she could have left all her regret and guilt. But no, it has followed her; all the regret, guilt, sorrow, confusion, longings, and the haunting voice that sings to her still, within her dreams and nightmares. All of this quietly resides within her soul, and stares back at her through the innocent eyes of a child.