It was hopeless, he was told. Her disease was completely incurable, an illness that had stumped scientists for centuries. Even her maternal family, whom were filthy rich and extremely influential, could do nothing for her. She was a goner from the start, marked for death the moment she was born. But she had never let it get to her, not even once. As a matter of fact, she was the one that had smiled brilliantly and reassured her own brother that it would be okay, that it didn't matter, that she was fine, and like a fool, he had believed her. How he regretted it now, believing her and that warm smile he would never see again. But regret wouldn't change a thing, not now and not ever.