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It’s already eight o’clock in the morning and the church was already full during the first mass and the Father started his preaching. Detective Kathy listened carefully as the priest preached. "Two innocent contestants!" The priest yelled at his mic. "They died because of the money. That money controls those contestants who are deeply in financial trouble. This is all the devil's work. He knows our weakness and he enjoys watching those remaining contestants die one by one. Now brothers and sisters, don’t let that money control you and your greediness. May those souls rest in peace. " Detective Kathy impressed the preach as they stood and recited the apostle’s creed.

“Father… Andrew?” “Yes! Fresh from seminary in Chicago. Young, energetic, exactly what St. Agnes needs. See you at seven!” She hung up before I could answer. I stared at the phone like it had betrayed me. A new priest. Right here. Right now. When Father Chris and I had only just started… whatever this was. It should have been good news. Another shepherd for the flock. More help with youth groups, more confessions, more everything the parish had been praying for.

"Then I won't have to feel so guilty about feeling so good because I'll be working hard." "Why would you feel guilty about feeling good?" Krista asked, stunned at hearing him say such a thing. "My father was a Lutheran pastor," Zach replied. "A priest!" Krista asked, her eyes wide. "You were raised by a priest?" "A pastor, a Lutheran pastor," Zach replied. "In both its Catholic and Pagan senses, a priest is a person serving as the interface between God and humans, because you can't do it directly. A Lutheran pastor is ordained to be a living example of Christ, but they are not the go-between like a Catholic priest. Pastors lead, but it is a first-among-equals thing. Nobody's kneeling or bowi

Aléjandro continued, “The priest said there’s another option. In California, you can marry online. The two people must physically be present in California and together. He knows of a 24-hour website.” Hope returned. “We’ll do both. Legal through the website and blessed by the priest.” “Go,” Mia said. “Go get your bride.”

Then he rose, unlocked a cabinet, and set a thick bound register on the desk. “Transferred priests,” he said. “Recent years.” I turned the pages carefully. Names. Dates. Receiving dioceses. Profiles. I went through them twice. Cassian Riven was not there. No entry. No destination. No signature trail. “It seems his file was never updated,” Mr. Halden said when I asked. His tone closed the subject. I thanked him and left.