Chapter Three: Her Sins, His Silence
The confessional was designed for anonymity.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlxeh0muHui
Dark wood. Slatted screen. A veil of sacred secrecy between the confessor and the priest.
But that day, the booth felt too intimate.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkY4r9Qe0FK
Like a trap cloaked in incense.
She spoke quietly at first.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe3QasEWNW2
As if afraid that God Himself might be listening too closely.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
Her name was Ella Martinez.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIYVWbn9NQF
But she didn’t say that.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvJu2WDdp7N
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.”10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡN2XeUstyw1
“Who, hija?” Ely asked, keeping his tone neutral.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ20cZyNIaSt
“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.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ6iAEKzaum
But this one felt different.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiCwAfWs8tS
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.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWStKYA1d3f
Wrapped in holy vocabulary.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1CnjnhHgsz
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.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFjb2g4LJY0
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.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeUYrK83MmM
Unmoving. Eyes burning.
Because something inside him had shifted.
He wasn’t just a listener anymore.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQQkHb2Tnoz
He was a witness.
And he couldn’t unhear what he’d heard.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBy19frwJbk
Couldn’t unknow what he now knew.
That night, Ely lit a candle in the convent’s private chapel.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVBDDevCKxe
He didn’t pray.
He stared at the flame.
And whispered—
ns216.73.216.12da2“Forgive me, Lord… but I don’t think silence is holy anymore.”
