“Bless me, Father… for I have sinned against you.”

 My voice came out low and shaky. My knees dug into the hard wooden kneeler as I stared at the lattice between us. The confessional felt smaller than usual, the air thick and heavy.

 “It’s been seven years since my last confession.”

 He stayed quiet for a moment, then let out a deep, rumbling hum that vibrated straight through me.

 “I used to be a stripper,” I whispered. “Four years dancing under those lights, letting men stare while I took their money and their hunger. I loved it. The way they looked at me… the way they wanted me. I still...