Priest took hold of his rosary and began to fiddle with the beads, touching the crucifix before bringing it to his lips for a brief kiss. How to counsel this person who was clearly so in need of his help? He'd attempted prison outreach in the old world, trying to help criminals get their lives back on track, and he couldn't recall the last time he'd spoken with someone so tormented. The cleric pondered the situation, then cleared his throat.
"Murder is a terrible sin, my son," he began, then lifted his hand as if to forestall anything Lot might say. "Even by accident, the taking of a human life is among the gravest of sins you can commit. I will not ask you how it took place for it doesn't matter. What matters is the state of your soul."
He smoothed an imaginary wrinkle out of his black shirt, fiddled with his rosary beads some more. "Tell me of this thing you wish to have."