The church was nearly empty, its air thick with incense and candle smoke. Cecilio stood by the doorway, his mind flashing back to why he came here.
"Alvarez? Alvarez!" Cecilio called louder, following his instincts,
it was definitely Alvarez.
The man turned around to see who was calling.
"Oh hey, it's you!..the kid I thought was going to die!" Alvarez said, rushing toward him to give him a hug. "Have you been well, kid?"
"I have. And the name's Cecilio
you don't have to call me 'kid,'" Cecilio replied, returning the hug.
"Still older than you, so I'll do whatever I want," Alvarez chuckled. "Guess there's such a thing as confidence."
"Can I buy you a drink?" Cecilio asked.
"I've never rejected a free drink in my life, haha. Lead the way," Alvarez said lightheartedly.
"So... Jacinto
is he well? I can't find him anywhere, and Rosa doesn't know anything. So I assumed he moved and is doing well, right?"
Alvarez's smile faded. "I wish I could assure you that was the case. He's doing worse than the living, I can tell you that much."
"What happened?" Cecilio asked calmly.
"He's clung to faith the way a drowning man clings to driftwood mistaking survival for salvation."
"A devout young man," a priest spoke from behind Cecilio, making him flinch and snap back to reality.
Facing the priest, Cecilio listened as the man continued:
"He never speaks of his past and never looks anyone in the eye."
Cecilio turned toward the altar, and there stood Jacinto
lighting candles, dressed in white, his shaky hands unmissable.
"He was saved through an exorcism," the priest added proudly. "Cast away the demons that held him back. Now, he's one of God's favorites."
But Cecilio could sense something was awfully wrong.
Jacinto's face was pale, his eyes sunken...but calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that comes after surrender. His words rehearsed, his presence distant, as if he were trapped deep inside himself.
Almost as if Jacinto could feel the eyes on him, he rose from his prayer and met eyes with a ghost. Looking for escape, he walked into the confessional booth and sat in silence, the air heavy with familiarity.
"Jacinto," a familiar voice called from behind the wooden lattice of the confessional.
Jacinto froze. The air itself carried whispers of his sins.
"Brother Elias," Jacinto whispered automatically.
a man reminding himself who he was supposed to be.
"Jacinto," Cecilio repeated softly, "you don't have to hide behind a name."
For a long moment, neither spoke. The flickering candlelight danced across Jacinto's trembling hands.
"If it's Jacinto you came to see," he finally said, voice hollow, "I suggest you leave
for you've come a long way to see a dead man."
"You're not dead," Cecilio replied quietly. "Just hiding."
"I will not come with you, Lio. Save your strength."
"But I didn't come to drag you," Cecilio said gently. "I came to tell you I made it out."
"I see." Jacinto bowed his head slightly.
"Thank you, Jacinto. You got me a good lawyer and made my stay in prison bearable. I owe you."
"It's the least I could do," Jacinto said. "You were innocent, after all."
"Was I though?" Cecilio's voice dropped. "But that's not something I want to dwell on. Because I set myself free...free of the past, of the pain."
He smiled faintly. "I finally got that house by the sea, far away from here. It's not the best, but it's better. Small, but the air is clean. It smells like freedom."
Jacinto's jaw tightened. "You think it's that simple? To just rise and start over? You weren't here when everything fell apart. After you were detained, the house felt like a grave. Rosa was slipping away, and I... I was barely holding on,parez became greedy and wanted to replace you, everything feel apart and I could only run to save my sanity.
You talk about peace as if it's something you can just decide to have." His voice broke, trembling under the weight of everything left unsaid. "Let the sleeping dog lie, Cecilio."
"Well, it won't lie forever," Cecilio said quietly. "It's been rough, but we have to keep going. After the hard part, you realize it's not that hard anymore. If you keep dwelling on those memories, it'll only hurt you more. I want you to rely on me this time. I might sound delusional, but we could be happy."
"We?" Jacinto asked.
"Yes, Jacinto
me, you, Rosa, and Parez. I'm not leaving anyone behind. We've all been through it, and I believe we deserve this...all of us. There's no reason to live this lie anymore."
He waited, but Jacinto only bowed his head. No answer. Just silence
deep and heavy, like a prayer unanswered.
A tear slipped down Jacinto's cheek, unseen in the dark.
Cecilio slipped a folded piece of paper through the holes of the wooden lattice.
"Set yourself free... I'll wait for you," he said softly, then rose and left the confessional.
Jacinto fell to his knees, unmoving, the candles burning lower.
His tears didn't fall...they escaped, one by one, like confessions too heavy to carry.
Like holy water washing over a soul still unclean.
The tears weren't from pain, but from the weight of remembering too much.
"Forgive me, Father... I tried," Jacinto whispered, his voice breaking.
"Please... have mercy on what's left of me."