The bishop arrived on a quiet Tuesday afternoon. Father Dominic stood straight in the church doorway, collar tight around his neck, while the older man inspected every corner of the parish. He asked questions about attendance, finances, and “any unusual activities.” Dominic answered calmly, but his hands stayed clenched behind his back. Every time the bishop glanced toward the rectory, guilt twisted in his stomach like a knife.
That evening, after the bishop finally left for his hotel, Elena slipped through the side door of the rectory. She wore a long coat over nothing but lace lingerie. The moment the door closed, Dominic pulled her into his arms.
“The bishop suspects nothing yet,” he whispered against her hair, “but we are playing with fire.”
“Then let us burn one last time,” Elena s
