Behind us, I could see Patricia watching. She wasn’t smiling or relaxed. Her jaw was tight, and her gaze was fixed on my mother, not on me.
Then she laughed. It was a high, artificial sound that cut through the quiet.
“Oh, Linda!” she called. “Careful there. Your heel’s sinking into the mud.”
My mom glanced down instinctively, confusion flickering across her face.
That was when it happened.
Patricia’s hand shot forward and shoved my mother’s shoulder.
It was fast and deliberate.
My mom stumbled, her arms flailing as she tried to regain her balance, but the ground near the lake was soft. She fell straight into the muddy bank, landing hard. Brown water splashed up, soaking her dress and staining the fabric instantly.
Gasps rippled through the group. Clara lowered her camera.
Patricia immediately covered her mouth in mock horror.
“Oh my goodness!” she shrieked. “I didn’t mean to. She just slipped!”
