AN: Thank you to BellaSpirita for betaing this for me. I added some things after she sent it back, so any mistakes are mine, and not hers. Including the genetics thing- thank you Very much, Caz, for telling me that!

June 4, 1832

Dear Maman,

Papa disowned me eight years ago, and you've not heard from me since. I know that you had no part in the decision to extricate me from the family as Papa would never allow a woman suffrage, even within the walls of her own home. I do, however, know that you supported Papa in his verdict. Was this against your better judgment? Or did you do this willingly? Either way, while it matters little to me, it should make a significant difference to you. If you willingly stood by Papa, then you need not read any further. Burn this letter, if that scenario is the truth, as I suspect.

So you have read further? Well, then. First, allow me to thank you for your support. At the very least, perhaps, it will seem to you that we have made amends, though nothing could be further from the truth.

Why am I writing to you now? Undoubtedly, you are asking yourself this; do not deny it. You never expected to hear from me again, and, were the circumstances different, you never would have. You would have died first, with no farewells, and I would have heard tell of your passing in some way or another. I would not mourn for you.

Would you mourn for me, were I to die? Ponder this carefully, Maman, and do not read on until you have reached your decision.

Good for you; I admire your decisive mind. I, of course, will not know of your choice in this lifetime- or, for that matter, in what life there is after death; I will not make an effort to discover the truth of this matter. I care not.

Why do I speak of death? Is that the question running amok through your head? Slim and dull as your mind might be, it has undoubtedly picked up on my none-too-subtle references. Yes, Maman, I am standing in the doorway of death. How did that come to pass, you ask? Well.

What was it, pray tell, that sent Papa into such a state that to renounce me became necessary? Do try to think; I'd hate to think that you had forgotten. I do hope that I withdrew from home and from the family with enough flourish to permanently imprint my departure within your memory. I know that Papa shall never forget. I suspect that his face is still the color of his favored waistcoat- bright red, as I recall. The look did not flatter him in the slightest… But I digress.

My political views have served to have me disowned, and now, eight years later, they will serve to see me slain. I will be dead tomorrow, or if fate wishes it, the day after. We will have our insurrection, and we will die.

"We." That is correct; there are those that are- as you might call them-"insane" enough to join me. But they do not follow me, Maman; they seek light, as I do. We will not die in vain; we drive the chariot; we bring the light… None can stop the sun from rising.

So sleep soundly, Maman; Papa's bane will have died within the week. Perhaps your bane shall be gone as well. Smile upon your fortune, if your eyes comprehend this page. If they do not… Well. Papa will have been denied seemingly much-needed pleasure, and should he find this letter, he will be irate.

Papa, if ever you lay eyes on this letter, these following words are for you. Thank you, Papa, ever so much for demanding my departure. In doing so, you truly released me from all bounds. Does it anger you that in trying to deliver a punishment, you brought about my salvation? Would you revoke your decision?

I am afraid, Papa, that by the time you read this, it will be much too late.

Now. I cannot alter what runs through my veins. My blood cannot be changed; it cannot be undone. Much as I would prefer to have never,in blood, been your son, the most that I can do is to never allow your decisions to influence me. However. I was given my Christian name by your preference. While I cannot change my blood, I can dismiss every selection regarding my future that you have made. Thus, I remain simply,

Enjolras