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.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvw72E53xES
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.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQp1JDjMgLg
The room smelled like alcohol.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKbhEki6MGH
And fear.
When she woke up, her blouse was half-unbuttoned, but nothing else had happened.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡptNcKd92vg
Not yet.
Because someone barged in.
“ELLA!”
It was Ely.
Sweating. Wild-eyed.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡG9Hbhkum5T
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.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhTwgSsgfy4
The blog was shut down, but not before its final entry went viral:
“If I disappear, if I die,11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuDZBRxiXs3
Don’t light a candle for me.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXc8OexbtqX
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.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLCjskOWpdl
Not abuse.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYFgLi5ZoPF
Not cover-up.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ48jXe03gsq
Not rape.
Scandal.
They called his protection of victims more offensive than the sins of their predator.
Ely no longer wore his collar.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVcKLfq5xze
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.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL0wQI2h50E
Some wafers had traces of something not holy.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3vP88Bi5eE
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.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmvF2R5r56v
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.”11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTHHdyGUyaM
“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.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZ2QulRohJJ
But to endure.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDhn92Hljiq
And to bring every buried truth into the light.
11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYMR1f3xgSJ
