Chapter Four: The Virgin Files
It started with a folder.
Buried under outdated parish records, sealed in a brown envelope marked “Catechism—Class ’17.” But inside were no lesson plans. No roll calls or grades. Just photos.
Girls.
All in uniform.
Smiling awkwardly in corridors, beside statues, near the sacristy.
Some were candid.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡePbAOf1FDd
Some were posed.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn6DsOUEV9h
All were taken without consent.
Eleazar “Ely” Bautista stared at the images. His breath caught. These weren’t just random students. These were names he remembered—whispers in the hallways, faces that faded from church events without warning.
And in one photo, taken just outside the retreat house—Ella.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsVoKxicfsR
Younger. Still untouched by cynicism.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK6yO9YU7bD
Still believing priests were closer to heaven than harm.
The back of the photo had a name scrawled in elegant cursive: Virgen #5.
There were at least nine more.
Ely’s hands trembled as he slid the folder into his satchel. He couldn’t stay in the office—too many ears in wooden walls. Too many secrets traded in confessional booths and cigar breaks.
He began asking questions—quietly.
To the sacristan who was once kicked out of seminary “for attitude issues.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjpwahzxAFp
To the janitor who drank too much but remembered too well.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl8qXylKs5U
To the librarian who pretended not to hear things... but catalogued everything.
One name kept surfacing: Fr. Vico.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXHvcXNAYvD
And one phrase:
“Sila-sila lang ang nagtatakpan.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ53VqyWBNE1
They cover for their own.
Late one evening, Ely entered the priest’s quarters under the guise of looking for baptismal records.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡETwcpYqQL3
Instead, he found the room pristine—almost sterile.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0a2OMa2ifI
Except for one locked drawer.
Inside?
Perfumed letters.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZHJhOarANq
Lipstick-stained tissues.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡogmaULTnRT
A small box of jewelry—cheap, delicate pieces girls often wore in high school.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0nYmH4mdc1
And at the bottom, another set of photos.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfzGEc4mNoa
Private. Exposed.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOSZthiGOUG
No longer innocent.
Some were of Ella.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEsrCV1UbwT
Others, he didn’t recognize.
Ely felt bile rise in his throat.
He knew what he had to do.
The confrontation wasn’t loud.
Ely waited until Vico was alone in the sacristy, polishing the chalice, humming a hymn.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHaYMD21MV7
As if he had no demons clinging to his hands.
“Kailan ka pa naging ganito?” Ely asked, voice low.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvNBkpBEsFr
“You broke into my room?” Vico laughed, not looking up. “That’s a bigger sin than lust, brother.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyu59eJ8e3F
“You call it lust? I call it assault.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9xQdT9X5Mm
“I call it consent,” Vico said sharply. “They wanted it. Needed it. You think they come here for God?”
Ely took a step forward. The crucifix gleamed between them.
“You use the Church like a shield.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1PlsNg4ic0
“And you? You’ll burn this place down to feel holy?”
For a moment, the silence crackled like dry leaves ready for fire.
Then Vico said something Ely would never forget:
“You expose me… you expose them all. The school. The seminary. The Order. You think they’ll thank you? No. They’ll crucify you, not me.”
And Vico walked away.
But that night, Ely didn’t sleep.
Instead, he opened a blank Word document.
And began typing:
“To the victims who prayed for justice in silence… I hear you now.”
He labeled the file: The Virgin Files.
And he knew, once it was finished, he couldn’t undo it.
Even if it cost him his priesthood.
Even if it made him the enemy of the very Church he once vowed to serve.
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