When she comes to her senses, when the fever from her flu wears off, when the alcohol leaves her system, when her utter desperation over Howard's confession lessons, Eponine will regret asking R. She'll regret and she might even apologise.

But for now, at his refusal, tears well in her eyes. She blinks but they begin to roll anyway, cutting tracks through the dirt already staining her face a shade darker than natural.

"Please. Please end it - please, let them kill me forever. I've had enough now. Please, let it be over soon."

Her head hurts. Her limbs feel so heavy; she clutches the bag and the box of eggs to her, but she barely realises she's holding onto them.

"I have not felt so ill in a long time - I need to sleep - I need... I tried, Sir. Honest I did - I tried to love him, but I was not enough for him. I want to go away now. Please help me."