Chapter 2
Late traffic crawled along the highway, horns blaring, office workers half-running to catch the last train, street vendors shuttering their stalls for the night.
Midnight rush hour was the worst. But if there was one thing she hated the most, it was the endless waiting inside her car. Listening to the dull hum of engines around her, the occasional blare of a horn, and the faint hiss of tires on wet asphalt only made the minutes drag longer. And as if to make things worse, the weather started to turn. Heavy rain began hammering against her window.
From the backseat of a black sedan, Congresswoman Silvana's gaze drifted. She sat rigid, pen in hand, before her eyes then lowered to the thick stack of briefing papers in her lap. Her brows were drawn tight for hours before her mouth set in a hard line.
The longer Silvana read, the more her temples throbbed. She had been reading the same line over and over again but she didn't quite get it into her head no matter how many times she read it.
Silvana was just on her way home after the last congress session, but all she found in the paperwork were complaints from worthless old men who know nothing but care for their own selfish agenda.
They had nothing else to do than go against her in the congress than waste her time blabbering nonsense. Stalling, scheming, puffing up their fragile egos. Too sensitive having the same standing as them just because she doesn't have a rod dangling between her legs.
Their paperwork was not even worth reading. The urge to throw these papers in the window was the last thing she wanted to do. But she knew they would demand her an explanation, and she refused to give them the satisfaction of an excuse.
With an exasperated roll of her eyes, she tossed the papers onto the seat beside her.
Just reading them was enough to sour her mood. She needed a break before she would snap her boiling annoyance to someone.
Silvana rested her head with a sigh before her gaze fell on the folded newspaper tucked behind the headrest. Reaching out, she took it in her hands.
Morning paper?
"Is this from this morning?" she asked the driver. Instead of answering yes. Silvana noticed how the driver was stiff. It took him a second to answer.
"Y-yes, ma'am," he answered, catching her eye in the mirror.
Silvana smiled faintly—until she read the headline.
Congresswoman Silvana faker? Critics Question Her LGBT Agenda, Claim She's actually straight and Playing Queer for Clout.''
Silvana's jaw immediately dropped. "The hell—!"
She flung the newspaper aside, the pages scattering across the car floor.
What is wrong with this paper!?
Her jaw tightened, irritation simmering at her immediately. What nonsense! Where did they even dig this up from this time? With a scoff of disbelief, Silvana shook her head.
Does she have to marry a woman so that they can believe she was a woman loving lesbian?! Or perhaps she fought a scandal, something so deliciously outrageous that society couldn't possibly doubt her anymore.
This is too ridiculous?!
Silvana is a member of the government party, a congresswoman who had worked her way up through long years of service. She has been in government for almost fifteen years and is one of the very few figures in national politics to live openly as a lesbian.
A gay! Which part of it do they not seem to understand?
Her objective was simple. Being open, despite holding office, even knowing she could receive backlash and opposition. She wants others to know that they had someone like her in the higher up.
Her honesty was meant to encourage, yet now her rivals had seized on it like vultures, hammering at her personal life and twisting it into a weapon against her, as if her identity mattered more than the laws she passed or the people she served.
Most people would assume the headline was a casual observation but it wasn't. They were just throwing whatever they could find, desperate to stain her or even irritate her. And guess what? They do irritate her.
The life of a politician was miserable. Others might say otherwise, but for Silvana, it was the one thing that she truly regretted. It wasn't the work of helping people that wore her down.. it was the constant opposition she received whenever she tried to fight fairly for others.
Why did everything have to be so dirty, unfair, cruel? The very thought sickened her. It was the grim reality of a career she had never wanted in the first place. But sometime living with a pastor father gave you less choice in life
Not to mention her gender in a male-dominated career—it made everything ten times worse. The body shaming, the snide comments, the constant questions about her worth tied to her sexual history and all that crap. It was like some sick trend that never ended.
But honestly? Who cares?
Silvana sure as hell didn't.
If she could live it all over again, she would give it up—running, politics, even her family name. She would have found the courage to walk out of their townhouse that day, never look back, and simply follow her heart.
She would rather spend her days enjoying her wealth in peace, something she had never truly been given the chance to do or better yet, dedicate herself to a woman.
Sylvanna was certain she was barely a step away from being disowned after coming out but still felt the satisfaction of how her homophobic father reacted, who tolerated it solely because she held the position of congresswoman.
If they ask her. She wanted to have a girlfriend but with her schedule it was entirely impossible. She can be a perfect lover if she admits to herself. When she loves she devotes herself and treats her lover like a queen.
But how can she when she couldn't even get herself a decent vacation without bombing a single issue. Everyone is so glued on the perfect face of social media that it disgust her. But there was no use dwelling on a past that could not be changed.
Feeling dejected.
Silvana snatched the paper off the floor, scanning the column with mounting irritation.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her driver shifting nervously, and a pang of guilt tugged at her. Her poor driver had no choice but to sit there and endure her stormy mood. She wasn't so cruel to snap at him especially when it was not his fault they got a crappy headline in the front page.
Her irritation from the congress and traffic doubled because of a dumb paper. Normally this won't bother her but too bad she was feeling extra today. Finding out who had published this trash wouldn't be half as bad as what she planned to do once she did.
The car rolled to a stop at a red light. Outside, a street vendor wandered between lanes, selling packs of mints. Silvana leaned back against the leather seat, trying to breathe through the rising frustration.
Her driver glanced at her through the rear view mirror. "M-ma'am, we're about a few minutes away from the house."
"Fine," she muttered, setting the papers aside on the seat for her secretary to look into. She hoped a nice hot dip in the tub would ease her frustration. Glancing out the window, she could see they were only one last turn away.
She was just reaching for her coat when a blaring honk split the air—sharp, deafening.
Silvana's head jerked up. Through the tinted glass, she caught the sudden blur of a delivery truck swerving into her direction. Her eyes flew open and her heart fell in her ribs.
She couldn't and it was too late to react to everything. The next thing she knew she was hit and flew off, throwing her forward. Her vision turned 360 and pain exploded across her body so bad that she felt her bones break and her vision vanish.
Then—silence.
...
..
.
Did Silvana just die?
Did she just die? Just like that? After all she's been through and just like that?!
The thought struck her like lightning.
Ugh!
What a life she'd lived all this time. Memories came rushing back into her mind like thunder. Dictating every step just to win someone's approval. Always craving attention. Only for her to be unhappy and miserable.
Maybe that's the regret she felt right now.. That's where Silvana realized how life is too short to shy away good opportunities.
If she had known today would be the day she died, she might have said yes to sleeping with the First Lady one week ago when she walked into her office.
Looking back, it seemed almost foolish that she hadn't. What harm would there have been in giving comfort to a woman trapped in a loveless marriage with an ass-cheating husband who couldn't even run a country properly?
She was a warm, sweet beautiful lady caught in an unhappy marital life. And really—who could understand and treat a woman better than another woman? Silvana was sure she could give her the treatment she deserved, the way every woman should be treated.
But honestly, what was the point of regret when she was already dead? All she could feel right now was anger, sadness, and frustration tangled together into one. And there was nothing she could do but face it, accept it.
Her death.
The unfairness of it all burned in her chest, yet no amount of rage could turn back time. It was over, just like that
Is she going to hell? or something?
Everything felt so void and empty she couldn't feel anything. Is this what happen when you die? She thought some person with a scythe would wait or pick her up?
Silvana cannot understand what is happening right now. All she felt was that she was floating in the air. Was it her imagination or did everything feel like shaking?
Until she hears voices.
Low murmur.
"T-the Baroness is giving birth this instant! Butler, where is the wet nurse?!''
W-what?! What was happening!?
''Hold on dear.. the wet nurse is coming.. H-hold on a little..'' A man's voice. Silvana can feel the panic and horror in his voice.
Silvana's surroundings began to shake once again and the once quiet surroundings turned to chaos as panic voices started to echo around her.
She tried to move or open her eyes. She wanted to know what was happening, but she knew she was dead then how did she hear voices in her head?
The air around her grew heavy with shouting. Footsteps thundered across the floorboards, all Silvana can remember was being pushed out and a sharp scent of herbs and blood filled her nose.
"Quickly, quickly! Towels!" another voice shouted.
Silvana's mind spun. Birth…? Wet nurse…?
A terrifying realization clawed its way into her thoughts.
She wasn't floating anymore—she was being held. Rough hands lifted her up, wrapping her in cloth. Her body trembled, not from fear but from being weak. She cannot open her eyes no matter how hard she tried to but her mind was open enough for her to understand what was happening.
A woman's ragged breathing broke through the noise, followed by a faint, exhausted cry.
"My baby… bring her to me…"
Silvana's heart skipped. No. This can't be… don't tell me—
A wrinkled, tired face leaned over her, smiling with tears of relief. "A girl. The Baroness has given us a healthy daughter."
And then, a monumental cry of a toddler erupted in the air.
Silvana froze, horror and disbelief warring inside her.
A… daughter? S-she's been reborn…?
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