I had heard gunfire—a crack! A snap! I knew its sound but I’d never felt gunfire before. When it happens near you, it booms so that your heart and lungs seem to shudder under your skin, and you stumble.

I fell. There was dust everywhere. I couldn’t see for the powdery air and I couldn’t stop coughing. Something heavy was crushing me—chairs and desks?—and with a second gunshot more wood came down on me like splintery rain.

There was a warm wetness on my face, trickling down from my hairline.

A third shot. More dust and more shouting and I heard Enjolras scream, “Fire back! Fire back!” and there was a thundering of musket fire that shook the ground.

I managed to crawl free. I licked my lips and tasted blood.

Get up! I managed it—but then a fifth gunshot tore into the barricades. Suddenly there was a hole in the middle of it, smoky and black, and I saw soldiers through it. They wore red coats with shining buttons and high leather boots. They knelt, lifted their rifles, and aimed.

“Fire! Fire!”

Another shot and another and another, and the windows of the Café Musain shattered, spraying glass. People were screaming “Over here!” or “Coufreyac is hit!” or “My eyes! I can’t see!” or “Grantaire is dead!” or “Lord, save us!” and Enjolras was shouting, “Hold strong, have faith! Vive la France!” But the soldiers didn’t stop. A shot passed so close to me that I fell and landed on my side, onto broken glass.

As I lay, I reached beneath my clothes: The note was still there.

Then I heard him.

Marius. It was his voice! I knew it! There was so much noise around me but I heard his voice and I clambered to my feet. I shouted, “Marius!” and lunged through the smoke with my arms stretched out. Marius, who I loved more than anything, even if he didn’t love me. I called his name again and again.

There. His face was smeared with dirt and his clothes were torn but it was still him. He reached for his gun, lifted it.

He thinks she’s gone forever. I knew a broken heart when I saw it.

I began to stumble toward him but then a dark-eyed man grabbed me, saying, “Get yourself a gun, Boy! The wall’s been breached—can’t you see? They’ll kill us all!” But I didn’t listen, I didn’t care, I just wanted to get to Marius and so I pushed the man aside. But Marius had vanished! In those few seconds! Where to? I stepped over bodies, searched the Café Musain and the shadows but I couldn’t see him.

The barricade was burning. I had to raise my hand to protect my face from its heat and brightness, and I pleaded with the fire: Please let me find him.

Suddenly he was standing next to me. He was shielding his face too and he shouted, “She’s gone!” I followed his gaze.

Enjolras shouted back, “Gone?”

“Left! Without a word! What do I have to live for now, Enjolras? So yes, I’m back! I’ll fight to the death beside my friends!”

If I’d loved him before, it was nothing compared to now.

He couldn’t die—never. He had to read this letter, have this letter pressed into his hand so he’d know that Cosette still loved him, so he’d know life was worth living and that he mustn’t die tonight, on these barricades.

“Marius!”

But he didn’t hear me. And at that very moment I saw a red-coated soldier kneeling, beyond the flames. He was narrowing an eye. He was taking aim. His rifle was aimed at Marius. All I thought was, Not him.

It was all I’d ever wanted—love. More than food or shelter, or a warm bed. I felt it, for him.

And that was what made me run toward the soldier. I ran through the smoke, through the heat of burning wood … ten, eleven, twelve steps that felt like forever … Not him, not him. The soldier didn’t see me—his eyes were on his target—so I threw my right hand across the end of the musket and pulled it toward myself.

*  *  *

I felt nothing as I fell. Just love, which rushed out of me, as warm and red as blood.