Chapter Two: The Flesh Beneath the Robes
They were men.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtMLObTCGU0
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.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVMqz2ug17h
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.”20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYrifLiJjhl
“Forgive me, Father, I took church money again. Just a little. For my dying mother. And a new iPhone.”20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ36PWgSQDpF
“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.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH58TaAWPvH
Others had private Grindr accounts under fake names.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeIkUhP8RYI
A few kept women in apartments rented from the university funds.
They joked about it in whispers.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl2rBgrzwQk
Called themselves the "Brotherhood of Flesh."20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvK9walt5mW
A mocking nod to the vows they all broke in some way.
They weren’t all predators.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeMmQ9QQb6W
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.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2xFwNEcIm5
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.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtAOKLyEf1q
It funded casinos.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLOuWymMy33
It protected reputations.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXjBn5Ao2wO
It buried scandals like corpses under marble floors.
Even Father Ely—the one they called the golden boy—had secrets.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeTlXGLkumH
He didn’t touch children. He didn’t steal. He didn’t gamble.
But he was lonely.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHSb85OA5Qi
Deeply. Quietly.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzEl5YNdl6n
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.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcMBUrhltT6
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.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj5QZzvpPbT
Because he, too, once asked that same question—20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2ZMgYDcEu6
Only difference was… no one answered him.
