Chasing The Good Girl

Chapter 3:

Kimly’s POV:

Before agreeing to meet at this café, Ofelia had warned me:

"Ignore her. I don’t think she has good intentions. I bet she’s here to charm you into donating your kidney for her daughter again. It’s so telling that she chose today, of all days, when we’re already suffering such a loss."

I understand why Ofelia was angry. But life has been cruel enough to me—I don’t want to return that cruelty to others. Luna Andrea approached, placing a bouquet of white roses on Negav’s grave, then turned to ask if we could talk privately.

And I agreed.

Luna Andrea’s eyes locked onto mine, piercing and sharp, as if she could read every thought I had. I slowly took a seat across from her, unable to tear my gaze away from her commanding eyes. The atmosphere in the café suddenly felt heavy, despite the clinking of cups and the soft murmurs of other guests around us.

Luna Andrea set her teacup down on the table, looking at me intently, a faint smile playing on her lips. "My condolences, Kimly," she said, her voice gentle yet carrying an invisible force that made me feel overwhelmed.

I bowed my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "Thank you," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, almost choked with emotion.

She sat upright, her eyes never leaving mine for a second. Her demeanor exuded an air of dignity, like someone who had weathered every storm in life without being shaken. I felt the stark contrast between us—a woman who had lost everything, struggling to find balance, and her—a symbol of power, seemingly untouched by anything.

“Negav was a good man,” she continued, her voice filled with sincerity but laced with a strange coldness. “Your loss is truly unfortunate.”

I looked down, my hands clasped tightly under the table. Every word of sympathy felt meaningless right now, but I could only nod in response. The emptiness inside me grew even clearer as I sat across from this woman. Luna Andrea, with her poise and power, seemed to know everything but revealed none of her own feelings. It made her feel distant, as though we existed in completely separate worlds.

I reached for the glass of water in front of me, but my hand trembled so much that I struggled to keep it steady. It had been a long day filled with relentless grief, but sitting here across from her made me feel smaller and weaker than ever.

Luna Andrea studied me with a scrutinizing gaze, as though she understood every insecurity, every thought running through my head. She lifted her teacup again, took a small, slow sip, and set it down calmly, as if nothing in the world could unsettle her.

“You’ll be okay,” she said, but there was no comfort in her words, only a raw truth. “Time heals everything, Kimly.”

I looked at her, trying to decipher something in her eyes, but I couldn’t. Luna Andrea was like an unyielding wall—a person I could never fully understand. I could clearly feel that she had gone through many hardships, yet she retained a terrifying calmness. I bowed my head, fighting back the tears threatening to spill.

“Thank you,” I repeated, this time my voice was clearer but still filled with exhaustion.

Deep down, I knew that Luna Andrea hadn’t come here just to offer her condolences. She wasn’t the type to spend time and effort appearing at a funeral without a purpose. Her sudden appearance right after Negav’s funeral made me feel uneasy. There was something lurking beneath her words of sympathy, and I couldn’t shake the thought that she was here for more than just mourning my loss.

Luna Andrea was a powerful woman, her reputation well known. But beyond her wealth and sophisticated demeanor, I knew she carried a gnawing worry—something she had once confided in me. Her daughter, a young and beautiful girl, had been suffering from kidney failure for a long time. She had spent her fortune and energy searching for a cure, but all efforts had been in vain. Her daughter needed a kidney transplant to survive, and after many tests, the most suitable donor was none other than me.

This wasn’t the first time Luna Andrea had approached me with this request. In the past, when her daughter’s condition worsened, she had pleaded with me multiple times, even begged. But I had refused. I couldn’t give away a part of my body, and more than that, there was an invisible chasm between us—the difference in power and life circumstances that made it impossible for me to agree. I didn’t know how to face her desperate request, and each time I refused, I felt a weight press down on my conscience. But now, with her appearing immediately after Negav’s funeral, I was certain she wasn’t here just out of empathy for my grief.

She quietly reached out her hand towards me, her eyes still fixed, unblinking. I hesitated for a moment but eventually let her take my hand. The palm of Luna Andrea was cold, yet the grip was firm and filled with an urgent heaviness. She squeezed my hand gently, and her usually sharp eyes softened, revealing a deep sorrow.

“Kimly,” her voice trembled, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I... I know it’s not the right time to bring this up... I understand you’ve just gone through a terrible loss... but I don’t have much time left.”

I met her gaze directly, part of me had already expected this. Her story, though I had heard it many times before, now resonated in the quiet space of this small café. But this time, her voice carried a desperation unlike any before.

“I can’t hide it anymore, Kimly,” she continued, her lips quivering. “My daughter... she doesn’t have much time left.” Tears began to stream down Luna Andrea’s cheeks—a sight I had never imagined. This strong woman crying before me was a stark contrast to her usual dignified image.

I remained silent, feeling her grip tighten, as if she wanted to transfer all her pain and urgency to me. “I know it’s not appropriate to bring this up now... I truly don’t want to pressure you, but I have no other options. You are our last hope. My daughter... she needs you.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Memories of our previous encounters rushed back, all the times Luna Andrea had tried to persuade me in her desperation. But now, her eyes held a plea stronger than ever before. I knew she had endured immense pain watching her daughter’s health decline day by day. But I couldn’t get past my own fears. I wasn’t someone who could easily decide to sacrifice a part of myself for another person, even if it meant saving a life.