Chapter Six: Wine, Blood, and Silence
They attacked Ella first.
It wasn’t in some dark alley or shadowy parking lot—it was in the school clinic, of all places.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGC0SN8ZYkM
She had gone for a mandatory physical exam after her scholarship renewal. There were cameras in the hallway, nurses on duty, and a waiting room full of students.
Still, someone locked the door behind her.
The nurse on record—Sister Mel—was gone that day. Instead, a man wearing a white coat with no nameplate whispered her name like an accusation:
“Martinez. You’ve stirred too much.”
She remembers the sharp sting on her arm before her knees gave in.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgI6zNb081J
The room smelled like alcohol.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtkjgOimMDF
And fear.
When she woke up, her blouse was half-unbuttoned, but nothing else had happened.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAVIUHIPxLp
Not yet.
Because someone barged in.
“ELLA!”
It was Ely.
Sweating. Wild-eyed.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbIl28DQmj6
And behind him—an actual nurse, panicked and holding a master key.
The man in the coat fled through the fire exit. Gone before anyone could ID him.
After that, the school board could no longer deny the danger.
Ella was escorted to safety, moved into a safe house run by a nun from a rival congregation.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP091ogP1L8
The blog was shut down, but not before its final entry went viral:
“If I disappear, if I die,12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPvbUqsN4rM
Don’t light a candle for me.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUU9eGJ3BgJ
Burn the whole church down.”
That same week, Father Ely received a letter from the Archdiocese:
“You are hereby suspended indefinitely pending investigation into your conduct, which has caused scandal to the Church and confusion among the faithful…”
Scandal.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6BnYnzUcXO
Not abuse.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGpn0MZI4YS
Not cover-up.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡivutejp5mP
Not rape.
Scandal.
They called his protection of victims more offensive than the sins of their predator.
Ely no longer wore his collar.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2LKCxzVY5V
But he still carried his cross.
And in his bag was a bottle of sacramental wine, not for the Mass—but for evidence.
He had begun tracking every Eucharist hosted by the accused priest—Fr. Emiliano, the man protected for decades.
What he discovered was darker than even he expected.
Some wine bottles were laced with sedatives.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV2phEMZOeo
Some wafers had traces of something not holy.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEiM0KhQ51y
And one victim—an altar boy—confessed that “Father gives me a sip before bed. Says it’s the blood of obedience.”
Ely gathered the bottles.
He took the confession.
He knew it was time.
To break his vow of silence.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvS5FCs2vs1
Even if it meant breaking the Church itself.
But that night, someone left him a letter slipped through the chapel door:
“You are not the Savior. Stop pretending to be.”12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyXiPzUnvpM
“People like us disappear in silence. Just like our victims.”
Ely sat in the pews, gripping his rosary so tightly the beads dug into his palms.
He didn’t weep.
He prayed.
Not to be saved.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQS0uHJ3gqm
But to endure.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz1J2OARaGE
And to bring every buried truth into the light.
12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz2I74Q9Z3H
