It took several weeks for Ruth to grow confident enough to tell the brothers her story. "I told you the truth that I was a simple village wench," she said, "but I should have told you why my village abandoned me. After all, I know your story, so it's only fair.

"Besides," she added darkly, "I'd rather you hear it from my own lips . . . just in case we one day come across someone I once knew."

***

Ruth grew up the youngest daughter of the village baker. She longed for close friends, but for a long time she was not fortunate to make any with her peers. The other girls her age would look at her like there was something wrong with her. Whispers would follow her wherever she went, and whenever Ruth would turn around to see who it was who had spoken against her, she would be met with thin, wobbly smiles that morphed into giggles and guffaws.

When Ruth finally acquired her sole friendship, it was in a girl named Dawn, a doe-eyed girl who was more likely to stare out her window up at the stars than at the people in front of her. Dawn and Ruth became friends one day when Ruth was walking along the banks of the river with her dog. Dawn was plopped down in the grassy knolls picking pedals off of flowers. Ruth could see her lips moving and her face alternating between sadness and happiness with each pedal she picked. Dawn's orange cat circled her, mewing.

"Stay here, Ursula," Ruth said to her puppy. The dog licked her hand and then disobediently ran off to chase butterflies.

Ruth walked up the hill, feeling entranced by the girl she had seen wandering around woods, gathering herbs, looking like she was a world away. As Ruth got closer, Dawn finished plucking the petals off of a flower and collapsed on the ground, her tiny shoulders shaking, although with laughter or tears, Ruth couldn't tell.

"Are you all right?" Ruth asked, doing her best to be gentle and not startle this madwoman.

"He loves me . . . not!" the girl squealed.

Ruth sat down next to the stranger. The orange cat wandered over to Ruth and, finding her to be more exciting company, nudged her hand until she started to pet it in rhythmic massages. The girl pushed off the ground and sat up again, wrapping her arms around her legs and leaning the side of her face on her knees. As she looked at Ruth she smiled.

"Wait, weren't you just upset? About a flower?" Ruth asked.

The girl shrugged. "He never does, anyway. Love me, that is," she said. "I'm Dawn. And you are Ruth."

Ruth smiled uncontrollably. "Yes, that's me, Ruth. I sit a few rows away in class."

"Yes, I believe so," Dawn replied. She reached down and picked up another dandelion, eying it mischievously. "Here, do you want to try this one?" She twirled the dandelion lightly in her tiny fingers.

"I didn't understand what you were doing with it," Ruth admitted.

"Oh. Well, you pluck each petal off. The first one is 'He loves me,' and the second is, 'He loves me not.' You keep going until you have one petal left, and whichever one it is-loves me or loves me not-you will know the true nature of his love. Boys are very hard to figure out, yet they have such simple minds." Dawn said this last bit with a sobriety that impressed even Ruth, who was so used to people teasing her and avoiding her that she had never given it the slightest thought that perhaps she had the valid right to love someone else, and that someone else might love her in return.

"Come on, isn't there someone out there who you pine for? Who makes your stomach do flip flops and your knees turn to wobbly jelly when he speaks?" Dawn said, leaning over and shoving the flower in Ruth's face. Ruth had to admit that it sounded awfully tempting.

And, as a matter of fact, there was someone. Matthew.

Ruth felt herself blush as she thought of Matthew. He was two years older than she and had sandy blond hair that seemed almost electric from the highlights that graced its upper level. He'd gotten them from the endless hours he'd spent outside each day hunting. His spear-throwing skills were legendary throughout the nearby villages.

"He's a fine hunter. And he'll make some woman a fine husband," Ruth's mother had said to her once while they had been baking bread. She had been sure to add in a wink when she knew her daughter was looking.

Ruth had not answered. This was before she'd become beautiful, and she had learned to be ashamed of her appearance.

It was well known throughout the village that Matthew was engaged to be married to Heather, the daughter of a nearby village's chieftain. But it was also rumored that Heather loved another, a traveler she'd met the previous year. Meanwhile, Matthew seemed to always find an excuse to come by Ruth's hut when he knew that Ruth was there.

"I won't ask who it is. I'll just give you the flower and be a friend if you need one," Dawn said.

Ruth reached out with a shaking hand and grasped the dandelion. A large bumblebee buzzed around it but then lost interest and flew away.

Ruth chose one of the topmost petals and began with, "He loves me."

"It works better if you picture him in your mind," Dawn said helpfully.

Ruth nodded, trying to conjure up a mental picture of Matthew. Not hard to do considering she watched him through her wispy bangs when he came by to trade a rabbit for some brown bread.

"He loves me," Ruth whispered as she held the last petal. "He loves me!" she shouted, delighted at what she would have considered to be a silly girl's game just a few minutes earlier.

"Yay!" Dawn said and then clapped her hands together. "Well at least someone loves someone! Now, tell me, who was it?"

Ruth blushed even harder but figured that she had a reason to trust a girl who offered to be her friend.

"Matthew."

Dawn shrieked, smiled, and then waved her hands around.

"Of course! Of course! You guys are the perfect match. Oh, be still my heart. True love does exist," Dawn said, miming rubbing her chest to get her heart to calm down. Ruth felt that she had made a new friend.

She had. From that day on never a day went by without Dawn and Ruth gossiping together, telling each other their deepest inner secrets and pining away for a future in which they married the men they loved. Dawn was as encouraging a friend as Ruth could have hoped for. Dawn was a generous listener and helped bolster Ruth's confidence, especially among members of the opposite sex.

One day, Ruth and Dawn were walking along the riverside, one of their favorite places to go because it meant the rushing water drowned out their conversations to outsiders and they could collect herbs in peace. As they walked along the banks the girls were able to gossip and speculate. Today, however, they walked alongside each other in solemn silence. Dawn's family was thinking about moving to another village, one where there was more work.

"So is this the last time we will ever see each other?" Dawn asked, sighing deeply. Ruth knew how much Dawn would miss her for it was bound to be at least if not more than she would miss Dawn.

"When I'm older . . . maybe after I get married and have someone to support me, maybe I can come visit you. Friendship doesn't go away forever," Ruth added doubtfully. "Not because of a little distance."

"But how will you know where I'll be? You don't know where I'm going," Dawn reminded her.

"Yes that's true, but perhaps we could agree to meet somewhere?" Ruth asked. "Or you could come visit me."

"We'll figure something out," Dawn promised. "No matter what."

"No matter what," Ruth said.

The girls parted ways soon after that, and Ruth headed home. The stars were twinkling above in the pitch-black sky as she wandered through the streets of her village. Suddenly everything looked different. These were the dirt paths of her childhood . . . all mementos of a life that was about to change.

As she walked home, taking a leisurely pace, Ruth smacked into someone who was walking briskly toward her.

"Oof!"

"So sorry-oh, Ruth?"

It was Matthew. And he was grasping her shoulder. He was actually touching her. She could almost faint with excitement.

"H-hi, Matthew, how are you tonight?"

"I'm good. I'm good. You?"

Ruth decided to take a chance. "Actually, have you heard about my friend Dawn? Her family is about to move. I'm going to miss her."

Matthew surprised her by taking her hand in his own and petting it.

"That's too bad," he said gently. "I know you liked her. But I'm sure you'll make other friends."

"I guess so," Ruth said doubtfully. "But not one like her."

"Ruth, come with me," Matthew said, taking her hand and walking with her to a willow tree. "There's something I have to tell you." He waited until they were facing each other, and then he enveloped her face with his hands. "I'm in love with you. I always have been."

Ruth felt like a family of butterflies was flying around her stomach. Her hands started to tremble, and she was grateful that it was dark out so he could not see.

"I have feelings for you as well, Matthew." She laughed, absurdly happy. "But I thought it was just me. I never imagined-"

"That we were fated?"

"Yes," Ruth replied breathlessly.

"Do you really believe that? Do you really believe in fate?"

Did she? Ruth had struggled with this question her whole life, when listening to elders' teaching about morality and ethics, over discussions with Dawn about true love, and when she could not sleep at night. Standing here now with Matthew, Ruth felt a surge of optimism. Matthew was her true love. They would be together one day. The gods would test them, and they would love each other. Just not now.

"I do, Matthew. I do believe in it, and I do love you," she stood on tiptoe to kiss him and whisper, "we'll be together forever."

***

Their happiness lasted two blissful weeks. They went out every day, linked arm in arm. Ruth openly watched him as he took his spear and went hunting, admiring the way he moved.

And then the third week came. One day, Matthew came to her in a flurry of concern, his face strained. "Ruth, your friend Dawn," he said. "Do you know which way she went?"

"You mean which direction?" Ruth asked, trying out a little smile. "Only vaguely. And who knows how much they've wandered."

Matthew did not smile back. "This is important," he said. "You need to leave, now. We need to leave together. We'll go after Dawn's family, settle where they settle."

"But I don't understand," Ruth said. "We can't just leave. And what about our families?"

"They'll be fine. Hurry, Ruth-"

But it was too late; a crowd descended upon them, separated them, and bore each away.

What came after that was the most miserable week of Ruth's life. It was also one of the most confusing weeks. People kept accusing her of things, of wrecking crops and stealing sheep and other ridiculous things, and it took her ages to work out what was really going on. It wasn't until Matthew snuck outside her window one night and whispered to her that she understood:

Matthew had broken off his engagement to Heather, proclaiming that he loved none but Ruth. This being inconvenient to his and Heather's fathers, the two had stuck their heads together and decided that Ruth must be a demon, a succubus of some sort, who had seduced poor, innocent Matthew away against his will.

In order to get rid of Ruth, the fathers had spread rumors of Ruth's wickedness, had convinced the villagers that she was responsible for every negative natural occurrence during the span of her life, which was a little over fifteen years.

At first, it was nothing but harmless fun, almost. Ruth fell asleep most nights feeling like half a person because people were picking on her. The juvenile pranks suddenly took a turn for the worse when one day Ruth got mad.

She was baking bread, minding her own business, when a crowd of young people, sent by Heather's father, herded around her, taunting her about some mishap. Ruth tried to contain her anger, but she burst when a young woman, with pretty dark hair, insulted her family.

"If you really thought me a succubus, then you wouldn't be insulting me so," Ruth said and pointed at the dark haired girl. "I'd be afraid what would happen to you."

The crowd ran away and Ruth would have never thought about her threat again, except that the girl she had threatened was found dead in her bed when her parents went to wake her. Ruth suspected that Heather's father had something to do with it, but no one believed her.

***

Here Ruth's story stopped, as her voice degraded into a sob. Abel and Cain waited impatiently for the rest. "But you know the rest," she said, when they asked. "They killed my family and drugged me, only to leave me far, far from civilization, where I was sure to die."

"But you didn't die," Cain said. "And we'll see to it that you don't."

"What happened to Matthew?" Abel mused. "Do you suppose he's looking for you, or did he go off and marry the other girl?"

Ruth turned away from him. Of course she didn't know. She would never know.