In the dead silence, the ticking of the clock feels louder than the ringing of the bells. Felix sits in absolute solitude, hunched over the papers spread out on his desk. His fingers tap softly to the rhythm of the pendulum as he tries to think. But only one phrase keeps circling in his head: “Molly is cheating on you.”

  It’s not that Felix hadn’t suspected it — he and his wife are little more than housemates — but how unpleasant it is to know for certain. And worse still, to hear it from Elias.

  Felix rubs his temples and, to his shame, feels his ears burn as soon as he recalls how he answered that shameful, mocking question: “Would you like to know what she traded your cassock for?” — while Elias smiled obscenely and tugged at the zipper of his jacket. Felix had been so stunned that he hadn’t even realized when he said, “I would.” Thankfully, he’d left the office before the laughing Elias could do anything more. But remembering it now is unbearably humiliating.

  Work at the church becomes his salvation. He had always devoted most of his life to service, but now he spends all his time there. He comes home only to sleep, when it’s already dark, and leaves at dawn. Sometimes he and his wife exchange glances during mass, sometimes even speak. Felix does his best to pretend that everything is as before. He still smiles at Molly, says the usual phrases, thanks her for attending church. Yet he notices more and more often how she smiles at young parishioners, how she sometimes returns home late, or how often she leaves the house as if trying to escape.

  What irritates him most, however, is the way she interacts with Elias — who comes to the church grounds with his younger brothers, dropping them off for Katharina’s lessons. His gaze lingers on Molly a little longer than on others; he is polite and charming, as if she were his wife. Whereas with Felix, he nearly avoids contact altogether. At least he no longer pesters him the way he used to. The notes are gone. The roar of the motorcycle is gone. The provocative questions, the unexpected visits, the piercing stare from the third pew — all gone.

  At some point, Felix catches himself thinking that perhaps he isn’t jealous of Molly at all. But that thought is immediately chased away by the remembered words: “Do not lie with a man as with a woman; it is an abomination.” The law of God could not be clearer.

  * * *

  Confession is the sacrament of repentance — where one admits their sins before a priest, receives guidance and absolution. It is one of the most important duties of a priest, for it is there that he draws closest to the souls of his parishioners. And now, as always, Felix waits in the confessional for those who are too ashamed to speak their secrets while looking him in the eye. It is an entirely ordinary practice, one that has never caused trouble — but apparently, not today.

  Felix cannot see, but clearly hears the confessional door being pushed open with a foot, then slammed shut as someone drops onto the bench with a thud. He sighs heavily, anticipating an angry tirade — only to hear, from the other side of the screen, a firm, mischievous voice that makes the words catch in his throat.

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  “In the name of the Father, the Son, and all the rest,” Elias says, raising his hand with a jingle of metal bracelets. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned! I think I’ve strayed far from the righteous path. The Lord and His servants will surely punish me for it. I’ve tried to rid myself of this sin, but it just won’t leave me.”

  Elias falls silent, and Felix could swear he feels his smirk through the screen — that sly, burning gaze searing right through the wood. Bauer fingers his rosary, pushing away unwanted thoughts. He must remain impartial.

  “How did you come to your sin?” Felix asks, his tone cold and formal.

  “I met someone…” Elias continues, his voice turning softer, lower, more inspired. “This person has nothing in common with me, except perhaps the one sin we both share. But he is beautiful — like the Snow Queen.”

  “And what is your sin?” Felix asks after a few seconds of silence.

  “This person has a disgusting husband,” Elias chuckles, and Felix squeezes the rosary so tightly that the beads creak. “And this husband is so stubborn, refusing to let my beloved go in peace. What should I do, Father Felix?”

  “If you believe in God, you know that wishing to destroy another man’s family is a sin,” he says, trying to regain his composure, rolling the beads between his fingers. “No one should seek love through the suffering of others. If you truly repent…”

  “What if that family is nothing but a cage?” Elias interrupts. “Doesn’t God wish happiness upon all His creations?”

  Felix opens his mouth to respond, but for the first time, no words come. Perhaps he’s simply too nervous lately. But truly — is he happy? What do people usually feel when they learn of a spouse’s betrayal? Surely they grieve. Perhaps they lash out in anger, or cry into a friend’s shoulder. But he feels nothing — nothing but disappointment. And not disappointment in the act of infidelity itself, nor in the betrayal, but rather in the fact that his calm, familiar life has been shattered, irreversibly altered, all because of one woman.

  Perhaps things would have been simpler if Felix had not ignored Molly’s suffering in their marriage? Or if he hadn’t accepted her father’s offer — hadn’t married her at all?

  “You’re so deep in thought,” the youthful voice distracts him, making Felix flinch, “which means you’re doubting. You know I’m right, Padre.”

  “Enough,” Felix cuts him off. “Confession is not a place for your games, Elias. If you truly repent, then pray — get on your knees every night for a month, and the Lord will grant you forgiveness. But if you came here for anything else, then you don’t belong here.” Felix rises abruptly and, at the door, ends the confession. “May the Lord forgive your sins in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

  Bauer opens the door and leaves the confessional, making it clear that the conversation is over. But since when has Elias ever left him so easily?

  Felix walks a few steps away, exhales sharply, and lowers his gaze to his rosary. The beads are worn and scratched. For the first time, he feels that God has sent him a trial too difficult to bear. What has he done to deserve it? In all his long years of service, he has taken no sin upon his soul.

  A few seconds later, Elias approaches and stops to his left. Strong fingers, adorned with rings, rest on his shoulder and lightly stroke the fabric of his cassock.

  “You’re not afraid of my sin,” Elias says, his voice dripping with sweet ease that clouds the mind. “You’re afraid that my sin will become yours.”

  Felix squeezes the rosary tighter and closes his eyes, refusing to turn around. Unconsciously, he begins to whisper the Lord’s Prayer under his breath, until the hand slips away from his shoulder and the soft footsteps fade — then vanish beyond the church doors. A shiver runs through him. He exhales in relief and finally opens his eyes, lifting them to the crucifix.

  The tormented face of Jesus looks past him, as if He hears every thought of the priest and now feels ashamed of His servant. But Felix is not yet mad enough to believe that icons or crucifixes can truly come to life. So, running a weary hand down his face, he turns away from the cross and continues his long day.