Summary:

And there.

Through a break in the trees, there is a house. Wooden, old, the pale white paint of it greyed with age and dampness.

"I—" His voice comes out level, at least.

The man has tilted his head. "What? You want to sleep in your car?" He pulls his chin toward the dark interior of the house, a small gesture. "No. Come in. Is no trouble."

God hasn’t abandoned him yet, ha.

Shane Hollander's car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. The man who answers the door is charming, warm, and just his type. Ilya Rozanov is a very religious man. He has a lot to say about repentance.