Chapter Three: Her Sins, His Silence
The confessional was designed for anonymity.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU8hhyQjyRs
Dark wood. Slatted screen. A veil of sacred secrecy between the confessor and the priest.
But that day, the booth felt too intimate.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0vKp6k1LqW
Like a trap cloaked in incense.
She spoke quietly at first.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLE6P2WQ2tR
As if afraid that God Himself might be listening too closely.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
Her name was Ella Martinez.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtgIOZfjt0Y
But she didn’t say that.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVui5Bqd24J
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.”20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVTRB8jRNmb
“Who, hija?” Ely asked, keeping his tone neutral.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSqIyYuGG6Z
“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.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3dpRDMG3xF
But this one felt different.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡehYwjxoeHb
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.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRG3l9fE4Lb
Wrapped in holy vocabulary.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKN5TuLwK1C
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.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdzQvwQJZYn
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.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡppWG7MadY1
Unmoving. Eyes burning.
Because something inside him had shifted.
He wasn’t just a listener anymore.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk0fAEzAAOn
He was a witness.
And he couldn’t unhear what he’d heard.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGltqLsckKc
Couldn’t unknow what he now knew.
That night, Ely lit a candle in the convent’s private chapel.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBEJqrgOgAF
He didn’t pray.
He stared at the flame.
And whispered—
ns216.73.216.251da2“Forgive me, Lord… but I don’t think silence is holy anymore.”
