In a dimly lit room, a young woman, her eyes closed, holds a heavy crucifix. She's about to take a vow of chastity, but her body betrays her. Her breaths grow shallow, her heart races. She's not alone; a hidden camera captures her every move. She reaches for her cross, rubbing it against her neck, her fingers tracing the cool metal. Suddenly, she stops, her hand moving lower, under her habit. Her fingers find her wetness, and she gasps, her eyes fluttering open. She's about to sin, and she knows it, but she can't stop. This is her verification, her confession.