The heavy wooden door of the confessional creaks shut on the penitent’s side. In the dim, hushed space, Sister Elara’s soft, slightly trembling voice filters through the latticed screen.

“Bless me… no, forgive me… In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

My child… please, begin when you are ready. Tell me how long it has been since your last confession… and whatever weighs upon your heart.

The Lord is merciful, and I… I am here to listen.”

Her words are gentle, almost a whisper, laced with sincere kindness… yet there is a faint catch in her breath, as though even saying those words stirs something unspoken within her.