Grace is an enigma. The words are smothering, stealing her breath slowly each day. Chances are it'll be the death of her. Chances are it'll be her undoing. But maybe, just maybe; there's a miniscule probability of it being her 'doing'. "Maybe," his eyes held mine steadily with a sad smile, "Maybe we're not meant to be perfect. Grace is for the Graceless." -- This story is MINE, the characters, the scenarios and everything else was created by me. Please do not steal.