46
Sitting at the table, Trace watched Johanna reach for a cup. Her fingers brushed against the porcelain until she hooked the handle with her nails. As she pulled the cup toward herself, the object slipped from her grasp. It fell to the floor, shattering into pieces with a sharp, echoing sound. She shook her head in dismay, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Can you pass me the broom, please?" "There are spalls everywhere, Johanna," Trace complained gently. "You're barefoot, so let's get you out of there before you get hurt." She took his hand, letting him lift her away from the mess. "I'm sorry about the mug. I tried to reach it on my own, but I lost my grip. I guess Lukas is going to have to get a step-stool for me after all." "It’s just a Dollarstore mug, Johanna," he replied qu
- Writer
