Chapter Three: Her Sins, His Silence
The confessional was designed for anonymity.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJxRbQ4C27e
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.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF9SaJxuivQ
Like a trap cloaked in incense.
She spoke quietly at first.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡth8g5h1n9a
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.ＰＥＮＡＮＡi7dRL80agA
But she didn’t say that.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqmQEfz3fXF
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.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnqvI8iPf9G
“Who, hija?” Ely asked, keeping his tone neutral.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJRVXHVyRFg
“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.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhUsU8IetWf
But this one felt different.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr8kSby1QKp
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.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiaXe53Lsz7
Wrapped in holy vocabulary.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0bxOZAWjU3
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.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5emPOnSGjd
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.ＰＥＮＡＮＡttMQh9YClf
Unmoving. Eyes burning.
Because something inside him had shifted.
He wasn’t just a listener anymore.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSe7h4z4nYt
He was a witness.
And he couldn’t unhear what he’d heard.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYlklcRU6MX
Couldn’t unknow what he now knew.
That night, Ely lit a candle in the convent’s private chapel.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyFIADXEuSo
He didn’t pray.
He stared at the flame.
And whispered—
ns216.73.216.209da2“Forgive me, Lord… but I don’t think silence is holy anymore.”
