I stood frozen, my mind struggling to catch up with what I had just seen.
Aaron rushed forward and helped my mom to her feet. Mud dripped from the hem of her dress. She tried to smile, always trying to keep the peace.
“It’s okay,” she said, though her voice shook. “Accidents happen.”
Patricia kept talking.
“I barely touched her. It’s not my fault she can’t walk in heels. Honestly, who wears shoes like that near water?”
I looked around. Everyone knew. No one said it, but everyone saw what she had done.
Except one person.
Aaron’s father, Richard, had been standing quietly nearby. He was usually reserved, content to stay out of conflict. As he watched my mom struggle to brush mud from her dress, something in him shifted.
He walked forward slowly.
“Patricia,” he said evenly, “what did you just do?”
She snapped back immediately.
“Nothing. She slipped.”
