“Father forgive me for I have sinned.” she whispered into the shadows. The hysterical buzz of a trapped mosquito crackled in her ears. It wanted to be free of this confessional, too. She cleared her voice, all too aware of her shirt clinging to her in the humidity. The very air seemed to vibrate as she began to speak, “It’s been… 20 years since my last confession.” her voice sounded tinny, scared.

“Why have you waited so long, my child?” the warmth, sweet and strong, that the Irish accent carried through the confessional screen, was a balm to her shaking heart. She felt hot tears spring to her eyes, and wiped them quickly away.

She listed her sins, nothing spectacular, lying and anger, disrespecting her parents, impure thoughts. Her voice began to shake again as she moved her hand to her swollen abdomen, “Father,” she murmured, “I… I’m going to have a child. I’m not married, and…”

“Ah, fornication-”

“No, Father,” Ella’s words were choked, terrified, “That’s why I’ve come to see you.”