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Théâtre Bohème, 5 December 1870
Marie headed straight for her dressing room. She allowed the role of Marguerite the Spy to overtake her because she would need her wits about her for this confrontation. She’d tossed and turned all night, feeling like the answer to the ghost’s identity was just beyond her reach. She’d met him. She knew she’d met him other than in the carriage. His voice teased her between dreams of Johann’s kisses and her actually being aware of him removing her corset and clothing. Somehow finding out who her father was made her feel more legitimate, like she might have a chance at a family and a normal life, and although she knew she shouldn’t be attracted to the musician, he was the one her heart turned to.
“Merde,” she muttered. He had secrets too, and she still wa
