Chapter Six: Wine, Blood, and Silence
They attacked Ella first.
It wasn’t in some dark alley or shadowy parking lot—it was in the school clinic, of all places.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvIqGNuEFTZ
She had gone for a mandatory physical exam after her scholarship renewal. There were cameras in the hallway, nurses on duty, and a waiting room full of students.
Still, someone locked the door behind her.
The nurse on record—Sister Mel—was gone that day. Instead, a man wearing a white coat with no nameplate whispered her name like an accusation:
“Martinez. You’ve stirred too much.”
She remembers the sharp sting on her arm before her knees gave in.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡejf0yhjxTc
The room smelled like alcohol.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoufyG6mwIh
And fear.
When she woke up, her blouse was half-unbuttoned, but nothing else had happened.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpHl75QBegR
Not yet.
Because someone barged in.
“ELLA!”
It was Ely.
Sweating. Wild-eyed.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHi00FDuCfO
And behind him—an actual nurse, panicked and holding a master key.
The man in the coat fled through the fire exit. Gone before anyone could ID him.
After that, the school board could no longer deny the danger.
Ella was escorted to safety, moved into a safe house run by a nun from a rival congregation.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6P0xvAH9dJ
The blog was shut down, but not before its final entry went viral:
“If I disappear, if I die,10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuUJsVYxZlr
Don’t light a candle for me.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY5Qu7eaWKP
Burn the whole church down.”
That same week, Father Ely received a letter from the Archdiocese:
“You are hereby suspended indefinitely pending investigation into your conduct, which has caused scandal to the Church and confusion among the faithful…”
Scandal.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ74B9S6Gal
Not abuse.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNNyRKbrDpG
Not cover-up.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaW2pia0Xfg
Not rape.
Scandal.
They called his protection of victims more offensive than the sins of their predator.
Ely no longer wore his collar.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPR3uzrUqyO
But he still carried his cross.
And in his bag was a bottle of sacramental wine, not for the Mass—but for evidence.
He had begun tracking every Eucharist hosted by the accused priest—Fr. Emiliano, the man protected for decades.
What he discovered was darker than even he expected.
Some wine bottles were laced with sedatives.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGzIluG7X5a
Some wafers had traces of something not holy.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL4hXuq0Tfq
And one victim—an altar boy—confessed that “Father gives me a sip before bed. Says it’s the blood of obedience.”
Ely gathered the bottles.
He took the confession.
He knew it was time.
To break his vow of silence.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmKy7cg2c9D
Even if it meant breaking the Church itself.
But that night, someone left him a letter slipped through the chapel door:
“You are not the Savior. Stop pretending to be.”10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtEMRjKiUfD
“People like us disappear in silence. Just like our victims.”
Ely sat in the pews, gripping his rosary so tightly the beads dug into his palms.
He didn’t weep.
He prayed.
Not to be saved.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡESB6cX3uir
But to endure.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAdY7HmsygO
And to bring every buried truth into the light.
10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8RPobwQGgC
