Chapter Three: Her Sins, His Silence
The confessional was designed for anonymity.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxbiISAujUZ
Dark wood. Slatted screen. A veil of sacred secrecy between the confessor and the priest.
But that day, the booth felt too intimate.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjcxTXLXUC6
Like a trap cloaked in incense.
She spoke quietly at first.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHRbbeDmwTA
As if afraid that God Himself might be listening too closely.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
Her name was Ella Martinez.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfLYLin98NE
But she didn’t say that.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ63NFRMI781
Not at first.
She was a student. University-run by the same congregation that governed the parish, the convent, the seminary. Everything interlaced in invisible cords of power. No one outran it. Especially not a girl like her.
“I think I… I made him want me.”11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT4QClZmL8x
“Who, hija?” Ely asked, keeping his tone neutral.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0w674Wcpap
“Fr. Vico. He touched me. I didn’t say no. But I didn’t say yes either.”
Silence.
The kind that weighed heavier than judgment.
Ely had heard many stories over the years.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX3JxSwCWeh
But this one felt different.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWEaX1N6cx6
Maybe it was the way she said his name—Fr. Vico—like it was both a wound and a chain.
“He said I was special,” Ella continued. “That I reminded him of the Blessed Virgin. That if I told anyone, I’d be hurting God’s servant.”
There it was. The manipulation. The grooming.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWX7XAP6gOb
Wrapped in holy vocabulary.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd2VULdn7bW
Camouflaged behind rituals.
Ely clenched his fists in the dark.
He knew Vico. A smooth talker. Younger than most. The kind of priest who wore his cassock tight and his homilies looser. Popular with students. Praised by the bishop. A rising star.
And now… this.
Ella didn’t cry.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKJ7tjkKFrK
She didn’t ask for forgiveness.
She just needed to say it out loud.
“Am I going to hell?” she asked.
Ely’s voice cracked—so softly she couldn’t hear it.
“No,” he whispered. “No, anak. Hell is for those who use God to touch what isn’t theirs.”
She exhaled—like she’d been holding her breath for months.
Then she left.
And Ely stayed in the booth long after.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7uDu8mNrle
Unmoving. Eyes burning.
Because something inside him had shifted.
He wasn’t just a listener anymore.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJexxjcmGTG
He was a witness.
And he couldn’t unhear what he’d heard.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCyPJerm1Lu
Couldn’t unknow what he now knew.
That night, Ely lit a candle in the convent’s private chapel.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1r3k9mqKJt
He didn’t pray.
He stared at the flame.
And whispered—
ns216.73.216.239da2“Forgive me, Lord… but I don’t think silence is holy anymore.”
