Chapter Two: The Flesh Beneath the Robes
They were men.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt0oa1D44UE
Long before they were priests, they were men.
And inside the whitewashed walls of the convent, when the incense faded and the faithful had gone home—the rituals became routine, and the temptations bled through.
Not every priest was corrupt.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOmyoJP1HuW
But not every priest was clean.
Father Ely had long known this. He’d seen it too many times, especially in confession rooms that doubled as therapy booths for his fellow clergy. They came to him not just to confess—but to vent, to justify, to seek forgiveness without change.
“Forgive me, Father, for I slept with another sacristan. He said he was twenty—he wasn’t.”10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkiJdLkl6QV
“Forgive me, Father, I took church money again. Just a little. For my dying mother. And a new iPhone.”10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs6dZ02GEWK
“Forgive me, Father, I was in Solaire last night. Baccarat was flowing. So was the wine. I wore my collar under my jacket. It made the waitresses nervous.”
Some were secret drinkers.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡii7e6Mw0Vr
Others had private Grindr accounts under fake names.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVkbnkeqX4N
A few kept women in apartments rented from the university funds.
They joked about it in whispers.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC8OJZACuNp
Called themselves the "Brotherhood of Flesh."10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4v03rQikRf
A mocking nod to the vows they all broke in some way.
They weren’t all predators.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQNCnD8zfyp
But some were.
There was Fr. Lino, soft-spoken, fond of young choir boys. He never touched them—no. But the way his hand lingered on shoulders, the extra-long “spiritual retreats” he scheduled with his favorite boys—everyone knew. But no one reported him.
Because in San Bartolome, you don’t expose a priest.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDFdjQY1V75
You protect the image, even if it kills the truth.
“We are shepherds,” the Prior once said in a closed-door meeting. “And shepherds must sometimes keep the flock in line—by silence.”
That silence was golden.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡybv0Foc4sx
It funded casinos.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkCj3tQ8ehO
It protected reputations.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtrM1Lx6Js9
It buried scandals like corpses under marble floors.
Even Father Ely—the one they called the golden boy—had secrets.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdPKAUrAvQt
He didn’t touch children. He didn’t steal. He didn’t gamble.
But he was lonely.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgsUomOZjku
Deeply. Quietly.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkBkvKby3ON
And sometimes that loneliness took the shape of a sin he refused to name aloud.
That was before Ella Martinez walked into the confession room.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDHhkcWcdok
Before her voice—shaky, soft, braver than most—asked him something that unsettled his soul.
“Father, what happens when you want to believe… but the people of God are the ones hurting you?”
Ely couldn’t answer right away.
Because her voice reminded him of something he buried.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqdbUnSpr6Y
Because he, too, once asked that same question—10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXEQvRE0nZF
Only difference was… no one answered him.
