Free Never Let You Go (a modern fairytale) by Katy Regnery

name.”
    “You know why he calls us Ruth and Seth.”
    Griselda and Holden had pieced together the story of the Man’s younger sister and brother, Ruth and Seth, who had been twins. From what they could gather, the siblings had been involved in a relationship with each other that made Ruth “a dirty temptress” and Seth “weak for the flesh.” As far as they could tell, the Man had abducted Holden and Griselda because he thought they were his long-lost sister and brother, and he was hell-bent on reforming them . . . this time.
    “This time” because—reading between the lines of his rants, which were unpredictable but frequent—Griselda was fairly certain the Man had eventually killed Ruth and Seth for their sins. She and Holden were terrified that he would one day decide to reenact that part of history.
    Holden looked up at her, the tracks of tears snaking down his dirty face. “He’s c-c-crazy.”
    “I don’t mind it, Holden,” she said, laying her head tentatively on his shoulder, relieved when she felt the gentle pressure of his cheek resting against her hair. “It doesn’t matter if he calls me Ruth.”
    “I mind. You’re not R-R-Ruth. You’re not d-d-dirty. You’re b-b-beautiful.” Holden was silent for a long time before sitting up straight and turning to her, his brows creased and his lips tight. “Someday he’s g-g-gonna k-k-kill us like he did them.”
    “I won’t let that happen,” she whispered fiercely. “I promise you. I’ll find a way for us to escape.”
    She touched his hair, grateful when he let her.
    “But you gotta stop talking back. You gotta stop fighting back,” Griselda sniffled. “He’s so much bigger. He’s gonna break you.”
    Holden turned to her, scowling, his discolored jaw clenched as snot collected under his nose, mixing with blood and dirt.
    “You ask me if I’m wh-wh-whole or br-br-broken, G-G-Griselda. G-g-go on and ask me. Ask me!” he demanded, his bruised eyes bright and shiny with unshed tears.
    She would not cry. She had no right. If he could bear it, she could bear it. But her voice caught as she asked him, “Are you whole or broken?”
    “I’m whole,” he said, swiping at his nose and holding her blue eyes with his gray ones in the sparse and dying twilight. “I’m wh-whole because I’m with you.”
     
    ***
    I’m whole. I’m whole because I’m with you.
    Griselda found a footpath not far from the cabin and walked alone for a good hour down the shoreline of the Shenandoah and back. She guessed that she wasn’t too far from the place where she’d crossed ten years ago this month, leaving Holden—bloodied, battered, exhausted, and terrified—utterly alone with Caleb Foster.
    Hot tears blurred her vision as she stared out at the water—the same water that had separated them, ripped them apart, split them into something partial, something incomplete, something that would never be whole and would always be broken.
    “Holden,” she whispered, stifling a sob as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Oh God, Holden, what happened to you?”
    Her only answer was the rush of the water, an early-summer afternoon breeze, and the lament of her weary heart. The river held no answers, just as it hadn’t been a solution a decade ago. It had betrayed them. She turned sharply away from the Shenandoah, heading back to the cabin.
    She returned to find Jonah, Shawn, and Tina sitting on the front deck, laughing and talking over an empty pitcher of mojitos. As she approached, she noticed the dried blood crusted just inside Jonah’s nose, though he’d changed his shirt and shorts. His eyes narrowed, but he smiled at her. “Got rid of whatever crawled up your ass?”
    Tina, who sat between the men, her cheeks red and wearing a broad, glossy smile, slapped him playfully on the arm. “She didn’t get you on purpose, hot stuff.”
    “That’s right, she didn’t. Did you, Zelda?”
    Griselda crossed her fingers in her pocket. “I sat up too fast. It was