Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, spilling over the bowed backs of the congregation. The small Austrian town was quietly waking to a new day as Father Felix Bauer delivered his usual Sunday sermon on sin and the strength of faith — though his thoughts kept drifting elsewhere.

  The scent of incense and the murmur of prayers made his head swim, as if conspiring to keep him from focus. Lately, that had become a familiar feeling — the sense of acting mechanically, of suffocating under the weight of his own routine. And yet, when his gaze fell upon the parishioners, their faces filled with trust and gratitude, he felt compelled to go on. Against all reason, Felix told himself he served God for these people — not the other way around. He knew them all. Every one of them.

  Except for—

  His eyes caught, unintentionally, on an unfamiliar face.

  Dark chestnut hair, carelessly tousled, fell in waves over broad shoulders, a leather jacket, and too many metal accessories. It was impossible not to notice — especially here, in the sacred stillness of a church, where people like that rarely appeared.

  Felix found himself staring. It wasn’t often that a rebellious young man turned up for Mass — especially one with such striking features and sharp black eyes. There was something magnetic about him, something dangerously beautiful. Felix had never seen a man so beautiful. The young stranger looked like a rock star, and yet in his defiant gaze there was a trace of education, perhaps forced upon him by the parents sitting beside him, whispering something into his ear — the one adorned with a small, elegant earring.

  When Felix let his eyes linger on him for a moment too long, the young man suddenly turned his head. Their gazes locked. Felix looked away so quickly it was almost painful. His heart lurched — hard enough that his voice faltered mid-prayer, drawing startled glances. His usually steady, low voice trembled for a moment, just long enough to make the congregation murmur.

  What on earth was wrong with him?

  The prayer ended sooner than he expected. Felix crossed himself, trying to let go of his thoughts — or at least to pretend he could. But he was never alone after Mass. Not today either. As soon as he closed his prayer book, a lively woman appeared before him — the kind who had clearly lived in a big city once, judging by her short haircut and fashionable dress. With her arm hooked around her husband — a man Felix privately considered too old for her — she greeted him with cheerful enthusiasm.

  “Good morning, Father Felix!” she beamed, gesturing first to herself and her husband, her gold jewelry chiming softly, then to the four children standing behind them — one of whom was the young man from the third pew.

  “We’re Mr. and Mrs. Huber — but you can call me Bella,” she said playfully, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “We moved here just a couple of days ago and couldn’t wait to meet you! These are our—”

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  “Father Felix,” interrupted a young voice, smooth but commanding.

  It belonged to the eldest Huber son, standing slightly behind his two younger twin brothers and his sixteen-year-old sister, who was toying with a lock of hair in her high ponytail, wearing the same arrogant expression as her brother — clearly imitating him.

  Felix was almost relieved to see the boy wasn’t as tall as he’d seemed from afar, perhaps even an inch shorter than himself.

  Lifting his chin slightly, the young man met Felix’s eyes with a faint, frozen smile.

  “In your sermon,” he said evenly, “you mentioned that God gave us freedom, yet He already knows our choices. Isn’t that an illusion of freedom — a kind of divine deceit?”

  “Elias!” gasped his mother, turning to him. “Don’t be rude on our first day!”

  His father only sighed wearily, but Felix responded with interest rather than irritation.

  “It’s all right,” he said calmly. “You’re confusing knowledge with coercion, my son. If you see a candle burning low, that doesn’t mean you lit it — or made it burn faster. You simply know how it will end.”

  “Then why judge others,” Elias countered, taking a step forward, “for choices already written into their fate?”

  “I judge no one,” Felix said, shaking his head. “A person still makes the choice. God’s knowledge doesn’t take it away from you.”

  “So let’s say I walk out of this church,” Elias said, smiling faintly, his dark eyes never leaving the priest, “and kill someone. God already knows it and won’t stop me — but He’s still innocent?”

  “Have you already decided to commit that crime?” Felix asked quietly.

  “Of course not,” Elias replied with a short, amused laugh.

  “Then don’t blame God for what you haven’t yet chosen.”

  Silence fell across the emptying church. The younger children pressed close together, used to their brother’s provocations. Their parents, helpless, only exchanged weary looks.

  Elias chuckled softly, stepped back, and raised his hands in mock surrender.

  “I yield,” he said brightly, flashing a sharp, uneven canine. “You know your philosophy well, Father.”

  “As much as my faith allows,” Felix replied modestly.

  “In that case,” Elias said, turning on his heel, “we should talk again sometime.”

  He waved lightly and strolled toward the exit, dragging his younger brothers along by their collars. Their sister followed after a brief, silent glance to her mother for permission.

  “Forgive Elias,” sighed Mrs. Huber. “He’s always been impossible. Used to listen a little, but the past few years… well.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Felix said with a faint smile, watching him leave. “He seems like a very interesting young man. Very.”

  Mrs. Huber ignored the odd tone of that remark. “Father Felix, could you perhaps talk to him? Guide him, somehow? He’s lost his way.”

  Felix hesitated, the thought unsettling — yet refusal wasn’t an option.

  “I could try,” he said finally. “If it is God’s will.”

  She burst into grateful thanks, and even her husband managed a stiff, polite “thank you.” Felix only turned his rosary beads between his fingers, trying to steady his mind.

  Mrs. Huber looked at him again, about to say something more — but the growl of an engine echoed from outside. One of the twins burst through the doorway, shouting:

  “Dad! Elias took the car without asking!”

  Mr. Huber exhaled sharply, muttered something into his mustache, and hurried out with his wife in tow. Felix watched them go, noting with faint amusement that none of them had actually said goodbye.

  Turning back toward the crucifix, he realized he was completely alone.

  And yet the emptiness that usually followed Mass was gone.

  No false peace, no hollow routine — only a strange, flickering curiosity. About the conversation. About the boy.

  How long had it been since he’d felt anything like that?

  Had he ever?

  Felix stepped toward the altar and finally exhaled the air trapped in his chest, releasing the tension. Somehow, he knew this encounter meant something.

  He just didn’t know what — not yet.