My Dear Sister,
Yesterday night was almost asleep when I heard a knock at my door. I dismissed it as the wind and kept lying there. Then I heard it again. I got up. I had my night dress on and my hair was in a cap. I opened the door. There was Jack.
"What on earth are you doing here?" I asked. Jack was supposed to be on the other side of the state taking that test.
"I just got home," Jack told me.
"Okay, but why are you here?" I asked.
"I just wanted to thank you," Jack told me. "I scored the highest in French out of everyone there."
"Congratulations," I said, partly happy and partly annoyed that he couldn't have waited until the morning.
"What's that?" Jack asked me.
"What?" I asked.
"In your hand."
I looked down and realized I was still holding Gavroche's vest. I had been sleeping with it. "It's my brother's," I said.
"I didn't know you had a brother," Jack said.
"I have three," I said. "And a sister. But don't ask about them." It made me upset to talk about you and Gavroche, and our two little brothers that mother sold.
"Sorry," Jack said. "I didn't mean to..."
"I know. I just don't want to talk about my siblings. My brother is dead. This was his vest. I sleep with it sometimes."
We heard a noise. I peeked out the door to see Father coming down the hall. "You have to go," I told Jack. "Now."
"Alright, bye Azelma," he whispered and ran down to his room.
Father walked up to me and backed me into my wall. "Did he just call you Azelma?" He asked me with his teeth together. He was mad.
"No," I said timidly.
"You little liar, I heard him. What was he doing in your room?"
"He wasn't. He was in the hall. He was telling me that he did well on his test. That's all," I said.
"I could hear you talking. You were talking about a brother. You were telling him about Gavroche!" Father growled. He has a strange way of yelling at you without raising his voice. He grabbed the vest out of my hand. "I told you not to tell anyone about our life in Paris. Are you stupid? Do you know what could happen if people here found out about us? I don't care if you think that stupid boy is your friend you will not tell anyone."
"Please give me the vest back," I said, my lip quivering.
"You can't have it. You are a little sneak. You don't deserve this vest."
I started crying. "No you don't deserve it. Gavroche loved you. He loved you and you kicked him out onto the streets. You didn't even care."
"Shut up Lorraine."
"That's not my name!" I shouted. He smacked my cheek. I grabbed it in pain. "I thought you came here to try to change," I told him through tears. "But you're still the same nasty man that you were when we left Paris. And that's exactly how Gavroche and Eponine saw you as when they died!"
I squirmed from his grip and went back to my bed. Father left the room with the vest clutched in his hand. I wanted to scream. The words I want my sister, I want my sister played over and over again in my mind. I had never yelled at Father like that before. It made me sick to my stomach. I cried myself to sleep again.
This morning I woke up with Gavroche's vest draped over me like a blanket. I knew who put it there.
I want you to be here more than anything,
Your sister, Azelma