Although this isn't the last chapter, it was the last one that I wrote, and, well, it just isn't the best. It's been done before, by me and other authors. Still, I hope at least some of y'all will enjoy it!


Well, I've been afraid of changes 'cause I –
I built my life around you.

But time makes you bolder. Children get older.
I'm getting older, too.
– Stevie Nicks, "Landslide"

Valjean's heart grew heavier with every step that he took. It was the late afternoon, the part of the day that all the girls had as free time, and yet, Cosette had not come running up to him like she always did. He hadn't even seen her, and so he had put down his hoe and was now searching the garden for her and growing worried. Where was she? She wouldn't have possibly stayed inside on such a beautiful day. It was springtime, and the garden had never looked or smelled more heavenly than it did now, with blossoms on the apple tree and cherry tree, and flowers blooming everywhere. All the other girls had come spilling outside as soon as classes ended to enjoy it – all except Cosette, it seemed.

Valjean's heart sank as he realized where she must be. She wouldn't have stayed inside, so she must be out in the garden, but spending time with her friends before she came to see him. Through all their years in convent, Cosette had still never missed visiting with him for even one day – but perhaps today, or someday soon, she finally would. After all, she was twelve-years-old now, and growing up. Soon, she wouldn't be his little girl anymore.

Valjean blinked away the tears that he felt forming in his eyes, and he hastily looked away across the garden to keep from crying. He scanned the other girls Cosette's age – most of them were sitting in groups, talking, rather than playing games like the younger ones – but still, he did not find her. Then, near the monastery door, he spotted Sister Marie-Catherine. She waved him over.

Sister Marie-Catherine had worked as a nurse and midwife before becoming a nun, and since entering the convent, she had taken care of the girls and other sisters whenever any of them fell ill. Valjean and Fauchelevent consulted with her often, to give her the herbs that they grew as remedies and to find out which ones she needed more of. Today, though, she didn't need to talk to him about herbs.

"I knew you'd be looking for Cosette," she said when Valjean approached her. "I'm afraid she won't be able to see you today. She's feeling a bit under the weather."

Valjean's heart lept up into his throat. Cosette must be seriously ill if she couldn't come outside to visit him. There had been times when she'd been a bit sick – sneezing and sniffling in cold weather, coughing in heavy rains – and it had never stopped her before. What if she had now caught some terrible, serious disease, something beyond Sister Marie-Catherine's skill to treat?

"There's no need for alarm," Sister Marie-Catherine said kindly, when she saw his stricken face. "It's nothing serious. She'll be quite all right, I assure you."

Valjean breathed a bit easier at that. "But what is it?" he asked. "What has she got?"

Sister Marie-Catherine hesitated. "It isn't for a lady to speak of," she said delicately, "but I'll be surprised if she isn't up and about again tomorrow morning. It's nothing to worry about, really." And with that, she slipped back inside.

"But what – " Valjean started to ask, but the door was already closed. He was left outside, and since he wouldn't be seeing Cosette today, he sighed and trudged back across the garden to continue hoeing. The spring day, which had felt so gay to him before, was now suddenly cast into gloom. No day that did not have Cosette in it could truly be a spring day, for to Valjean, she was springtime itself.


He'd been lying in bed for some twenty minutes when it became obvious that he wasn't going to fall asleep. He threw the blankets off, got up, and began pacing the floor, nervously wringing his hands. He was tempted to climb the trellis and sneak in through the window – as he'd done that night years ago, when Cosette was little – and find her and ask her what was wrong. He'd been worrying ever since he spoke to Sister Marie-Catherine, even though she'd told him that there was no need to worry.

His pacing must've woken Fauchelevent, for after a few minutes, he stirred in his bed, sat up, and lit a candle.

"What on earth?" he asked, yawning, when he saw Valjean up. "Come on, we've got to get up at dawn tomorrow. Don't tell me you can't sleep because you're worried about Cosette."

"I can't help it!" Valjean burst out. He wrung his hands again, so hard that he looked ready to break his own fingers. "She's never been so sick that she couldn't even visit me before. Oh, what if she's caught something dreadful?"

"The sister told you there was nothing to worry about," Fauchelevent reminded him. Valjean had recounted their conversation to him during dinner – which Valjean had barely eaten a bite of.

"I know, but I just don't understand why she wouldn't even tell me what's wrong with Cosette. I have a right to know, don't I? I'm her father, aren't I? I asked her, but she only said it wasn't for a lady to speak of."

Fauchelevent's expression grew thoughtful, and then he sat up a bit straighter in bed. "Perhaps... how old is Cosette now? Isn't she twelve?"

Valjean nodded, and he was about to ask, But what does that have to do with anything? when suddenly – oh. He stopped pacing. "Oh, of course," he murmured. Cosette was twelve, and she had something that it wasn't for a lady to speak of. "You think it... you think she..."

Fauchelevent shrugged. "You can ask her tomorrow. Now will you please go to sleep?"

Valjean returned to his bed, but he didn't go to sleep. He lay awake, wondering. Should he ask Cosette about it tomorrow? But how was he supposed to find the words to ask her if she'd starting bleeding? And wouldn't Cosette feel uncomfortable talking to him about it? Sister Marie-Catherine had said that it wasn't for a lady to speak of, and if Cosette had begun bleeding, didn't that mean that she was officially a lady now? He didn't want to embarrass her. He wondered what to do, how to handle the situation, and finally, he wondered if he would ever fall asleep.

But eventually, he did.


The next afternoon, as soon as he finally laid eyes on Cosette again, Valjean cried, "Cosette! Darling!" and hugged her so hard that she had trouble breathing for a moment. He put one hand on her head and pressed her head against his chest, right over his heart, and held her like that for a long moment.

"I missed you seeing you so much yesterday, precious," he said, still holding her and kissing the top of her head.

"I missed you too, Papa," Cosette put in, now that she could breathe enough to talk again.

"Sister Marie-Catherine said you weren't feeling well, and she told me not to worry, but I couldn't help it. I barely slept at all last night, and I drove your uncle to distraction, I'm afraid."

Cosette looked down. "I'm sorry," she said guiltily. "I didn't mean for you to worry."

"Oh, don't apologize, Cosette. It isn't your fault you were sick, sweetheart. I'm just glad you're feeling better now." He kissed her again.

"I wasn't sick, exactly," Cosette whispered, still looking at the ground. Her cheeks flushed pink. "I was – I – Sister Marie-Catherine said it's called... becoming a woman."

Her words warmed Valjean's heart. He'd suspected that she'd begun bleeding, and that she wouldn't want to talk to him about it. It made his blood run cold with fear to realize that as Cosette grew older, there would be more and more things that she wouldn't want to discuss with him. But even though she was obviously embarrassed to tell him that she'd begun bleeding, she was still telling him – still confiding in him, as she always had. She was growing up, but at least they weren't growing apart.

"Did it frighten you?" he asked gently. This was another worry that had kept him awake last night. He'd never thought to warn her about women's bleedings – naive, foolish, single father that he was – and if none of the sisters had done it for him, then she'd probably been quite frightened by it.

She kicked at the dirt, still not looking at him. "Not really. I'd heard about it from... some of the other girls."

"Did it hurt?"

"A little. It made my back ache, and my stomach. But Sister Marie-Catherine gave me some peppermint, and I'm feeling much better today. She said it can be... harder, the first time it happens."

I wish your mother could be here to see you now. The words were right there in Valjean's throat, waiting, and he very nearly said them aloud. There were true, after all; he did so wish that Fantine could've been there with Cosette, to comfort her and answer all her questions. But he forced those words down and said instead, "You're growing up so fast, my girl. I hope you're still going to help your uncle and me in the garden."

She glared at him with a bit of annoyance. "Of course, Papa. It isn't as if this changes everything. But you mustn't tell Uncle Fauvent, or anyone else. I don't want a lot of people knowing."

"I won't speak of it to a soul, Cosette, I promise – but you must promise that no matter how old you get, you'll still be my little girl."

Cosette smiled and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Always," she whispered.