“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” the person said. Father Mayhew noticed their fingers moving sporadically over their skin as they blessed themselves. Although he could only see a silhouette, he recognized that voice.

“Do tell,” he replied, unable to suppress a slight, intrigued grin that tugged at his lips. For the past three months, they had confessed at least once a week. What he found unusual wasn’t the frequency of their confessions but the fact that they had never attended a single sermon. He recognized that intoxicating scent and that beautifully distinct voice.