When I was in prison I escaped four times. I ran because I hated my prison and because freedom was so close I could taste it. Now years later no longer in prison but still under a shadow of fear I see a chance for escape again.
It can be so easy. I can be assured no one will ever look for Jean Valjean, the convict again. All it will take is for me to sentence an innocent man to jail.
Once before I stood at a crossroad. On one side lay my old life, the life of a prison convict on parole. The life of a man with no conscience. A man who hated the world and who was hated in return. On the other side was the life I live now. A life where I am respected as a man of good character. A man who owns a business and is fair to his workers, many of whom would be starving or worse if I did not employ them. The man I promised I would be.
But this life I live is based on a lie. I am no more the respected mayor with nothing to hide than the silver I received so long ago was first intended as a gift.
He saved my life that night in more ways than one. The gift he gave me was more than money, the reason I have never sod the candlesticks. That night he gave his blessing, he gave me back my faith in both God and man.
Once again I stand at the crossroad. On one side is a continuation of my life of lies and the guilt of sending an innocent man to prison for the crime of resembling me. On the other telling the truth and saving the man while condemning myself. Back to prison. Back to where I am a number not a man.
I look at the candlesticks and see the truth. To be wholly worthy of the trust I was given I can no longer live this life. I am no longer the mayor. I am Jean Valjean, known to those in authority as convict number 24601.