Why was her floor covered in broken glass?

I walked in and I saw it scattered across the floor. There she was, on her knees, scrambling to sweep it all up. Rosie was a glass blower, but why was her floor covered in broken glass? I looked around, and the front door was open. “Rosie, are you alright?” I couldn’t help but ask as I got on my knees to help her.

She pushed herself up from the position she was in, “I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“What happened?”

“Umm,” she hesitated, avoiding my gaze for a moment, “I was carrying in a piece, and I slipped on some oil that fell on the floor earlier…” Most would’ve believed her, but not me. I just wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Oh, that’s a shame. Well here, let me help you with this,” I continued to pick up the pieces, and she got a brush for the smaller ones. I wasn’t going to leave until I knew he was gone. I saw a car in the woods, and I wouldn’t dare leave her vulnerable.

******FLASH FORWARD********

That night, I went outside, but only for a short moment. I came back in after I made it seem like my car wouldn’t turn on. “Do you want to stay the night?” she offered. I accepted, and set up my bed in the living room. I was positioned in front of the stairs, so that in case he decided to come in, she wouldn’t be vulnerable. The plan was that I would get someone to come fix my car in the morning.
I got a text from my wife, “honey, where are you?” So I sent a quick reply.
“My sister’s house, she is having trouble with the kids.”
“Okay, I love you. Night.” she texted back. I couldn’t tell her what I was up to.

So I decided to answer a story prompt today, I hope you guys liked it. I realize it’s kind of short. If you would like me to continue this story, comment below! 🙂

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