You were sitting in the confession booth in the local church in your town. It wouldn't have been so weird if it wasn't close to two in the morning with no priest in sight. You froze, jumping slightly as the door to the other side of the booth opened and closed softly, the wooden noise echoing through the church.

Graves spoke up in a soothing whisper, his Texas accent laced through his voice like honey as his tone remained calm and patient.

"Speak, my child. Tell me your sins."