Elena sat in the dark confessional booth, her heart hammering against her ribs. Father Marcus's dark eyes burned into hers through the wooden lattice. She could hear his heavy breathing on the other side of the partition. She could feel the tension radiating through the thin wooden barrier that separated them. He was in control. He was the one with the power. And she was about to do whatever he told her to do.
"I am not going to open this door," Father Marcus said, his voice a low, commanding whisper. "I am not going to let you see me. I am not going to let you touch me. You are going to stay on your side of this partition, and you are going to do exactly what I tell you to do. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Elena whispered, her body trembling with anticipation.
"Take off your coat."
Elena
