performing?"

   Jenna didn't like where this was going. It almost sounded like she was being suspected of killing the Chief of the Flies.

   "I don't know," She repeated, getting a bit nervous "What are you getting at?"

   "I was just about to answer that." Jean-Claude crossed his arms, "What I'm getting at is that his ghost has constantly praised you, Mademoiselle, and from what the notes say that the managers have received from him, he clearly wants you in the lead role of every opera, including Faust. So, forgive me for asking, but, do you have something to do with this?"

   It was clear to the Shepard that Jenna was getting nervous, but who wouldn't if they were accused of murder?

   "No, why? Do you think I killed him?"

   "Well, no, but I think you're some kind of an accomplice. For instance, from what the ghost has said about you, it almost seems like he admires you, and would probably do anything for you, and punish those that would oppose that."

   "What?" Jenna was aghast that she would take part in a murder. "I didn't know that."

   "He seems to fancy you, Mademoiselle, but there's one thing that I don't understand. Why would he do this for you?"

   "I don't know, but wouldn't that be dangerous, Monsieur? To be in cahoots with a criminal?"

   Hmm, never thought of that, and she thought of that rather quickly. She's definitely more intelligent than I thought. Ok, if that's how she wants to play this game, that's fine. I've got something for her, something that I've been meaning to ask her about.

   "Mademoiselle, I have another question for you. I've noticed from what your two friends, Slyvie and Dixie, they've said they heard you speaking with a "voice" in your room, one that seemed to be singing alongside you. They said you were meeting with your "teacher"

   "And, forgive me asking, but how come you don't seem to know that he's doing this? If you are correct that this Angel of Music is your teacher and companion, and from the evidence that proves that the Opera Ghost is a phantom that disguises himself, and he can speak to others, well, that proves something to me. It proves that this Angel of Music is the Opera Ghost, and, if he really is a criminal, then this means you've been meeting with a criminal, not an Angel. Also, if this ghost would do something for you, then that means you probably told him to kill Buquet, or the ghost killed him to display a warning to all who would oppose his admiration for you."

   Jenna seemed completely stunned after Jean-Claude's assumption was told. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, as this all seemed to point to her being an accomplice with a murderer.

   "Do you think I'm a murderer?" Jenna asked, clearly upset by the Inspector accusation, "Monsieur, I had nothing to do with what happened. I was completely humiliated by Carlotta, I was made a laughingstock because of her, and all of a sudden you think I killed Buqeut because of it."

   "Madame, I never said you killed him directly. I assumed you did, but I also said the ghost did this, which makes more sense. Still, if you have something to do with this, then you will be suspected as an accomplice. It's not a 100% proof exactly, but it's close, very close."

   Jenna glowered, "Monsieur Inspector, I don't have anything to do with this. I don't know why, but it seems like everyone hates me now. The entire audience insulted me, and accused me of no formal training, almost like I didn't deserve to be here! Maybe you're one of them, maybe you're just one of them, trying to pull me down like the rest of them!"

   The Inspector could see the tears welling up in her eyes. Hmm, maybe I was too harsh. I guess I should keep my thoughts to myself, but this is the only way to see if they're right. But, in her current state, I don't think she was capable of murder. Her friends, and some of the staff said she was a nice dog, one that wouldn't hurt a fly. Still, I'm sure if I was humiliated like this in front of hundreds of dogs, then I'd want to do something about it, but murder does sound extreme. It's clear she has nothing to do with this, but there has to be something she's hiding, I just know it…still…

   "Mademoiselle," Jean-Claude began, "Maybe I was wrong. I still think you have something on your mind, but murder and revenge is not one of them. I apologize if I upset you."

   "Thank you Monsieur, but I'm just not in the mood right now."

   "I understand. I'll take my leave now." Jean-Claude got up from his seat, "Still, I think that something has to be on your mind." He then pulled out a small card, "So, if you have something to tell me, please, feel free to stop by my office at the Palais de Justice."

   "Thank you, Monsieur," She took the card in her paw, and laid her head back on the desk. Jean-Claude left the costume room, still pondering about this entire thing.

   I know she knows something. That was too obvious a move. I'm sorry, Mademoiselle, but your emotions don't move me. You know something about the Opera Ghost that no one in Paris does, and I'll figure it out soon enough. But, forcing her to tell me about him won't get me anywhere, seeing how she wants to keep it a secret. I'll have to find some other way to the truth.

   Monsieur Fantome, you're playing a dangerous game, you really are. I think Mademoiselle Daae has been taken under your spell, and I'll find out who you are, soon enough…

   Steele de Chagny had waited for about three weeks, but it felt like a lifetime for the young Vicomte. He had promised to his brother that he would let Jenna have some room to breathe, and until the time was right, he would try again to win her over.

   Now, on September 19th, a rather chilly Friday morning, Steele thought that this was a good day to try and get him and Jenna back together again.

   She has to say yes, Steele thought, as he clumsily tied a ribbon around the bouquet of red roses, I hope she's not too angry with me. The malamute then carefully took the flowers in his teeth, and walked over to the door, but upon opening it up, he saw their butler coming up to him.

   "Oh, there you are, Monsieur Vicomte, I have a letter for you." Steele took the letter in his paws, and saw that it was addressed to him. He opened it, and was shocked to read its contents:

   To Steele de Chagny,

   Steele, I know that we haven't really been great friends, and I know that you want to be with me, and I do too. I honestly, truly do, but I'm afraid we can't. My teacher has forbid me to do so, as he says being with "another dog" would distract me from my career.

   I'm sorry, Steele, but we can't be with each other. If you truly care for me, you'd respect me for my decision.

   Your childhood friend,

   Jenna

   "Monsieur Vicomte, is something the matter?" The butler asked the malamute, who seemed upset by what the letter had said. He felt the excitement in his heart drift away, almost crushed by the fact the Jenna didn't want to see him.

   I don't get it, what is she thinking? Steele thought, ripping the letter to shreds and throwing the roses on the ground. Maybe she really does hate me. He sat down on the ground, clearly upset, as he didn't even want to think about his once childhood friend.

   He then heard footsteps, and he saw his brother come out from one of the rooms wearing his morning robe, "Steele, what's the matter?" He ran over to him, as it looked like Steele was clearly troubled.

   "Why would you care?" Steele frowned, looking away from the black husky.

   "Stephen, what happened? Is it because of Mademoiselle Daae?"

   "How'd you know?" The malamute asked, looking at his brother.

   Philippe chuckled slightly, "I saw the roses, somewhat over doing it I think; I prefer yellow."

   "It's not for you, Philippe, it's for Jenna." Steele sighed. "That was until she gave me a certain letter in the mail." He pointed over to the ripped up pieces of paper on the carpet.

   "What did it say?"

   "She said she didn't want to see me ever again. Apparently, her 'teacher' thinks I would distract her from her career. What kind of nonsense is that?"

   "Ouch," Philippe grimaced, "Well, maybe it's for the best."

   "What?" Steele was shocked that his brother agreed with the singer's decision, "Why wouldn't she want to be with me?"

   "Maybe because you can be rather 'tough'." Philippe replied, "A jerk, overconfident, impatient, a bit of a hot-head---,"

   "I get it!" Steele groaned, "But, it doesn't make sense. I thought she would come running back to me. I mean, I was going to try again today, but maybe that's not

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