Confessions -

On the other side of the thin wooden screen, Father Miller waited. He was a patient man, accustomed to the rhythmic murmurs of small-town guilt—stolen glances, white lies, and petty envies. But Elias wasn’t here for the usual.

Elias left the church as the sun was setting. The world looked different—sharper, colder, but finally real. He knew his next stop wasn't home; it was the police station on the corner. The confession wasn't the end of his story; it was the first honest page. confessions

When he finished, the silence in the church was absolute. Finally, the priest spoke, but it wasn't the expected scolding. "You’ve carried this for a lifetime, Elias. The truth doesn't just clear your soul; it demands you fix the world you broke." On the other side of the thin wooden