Carrie's POV
I am on my knees in the darkened confessional, rosary digging into my palms, when Father Marcus leans close enough that his breath brushes the lattice and says, “Tell me the truth, Sister. Did you touch yourself thinking of me last night?”
The words land like a hand around my throat. My pulse stutters. Outside these thin wooden walls the chapel is empty, the last of the evening light dying against stained glass. Inside, there is only the smell of old incense, polished wood, and him.
I should say no. I should recite the Act of Contrition and leave. Instead my mouth opens and nothing comes out.
Two years ago I took temporary vows because my family’s money vanished overnight and the scandal that followed left me with nowhere else to go.
The academy took me in. Father Marcu
