“I need to bring this pitcher to the drink station.”

She didn’t look up from her screen.

She took a sudden, sharp step backward.

Her heel caught the edge of Eleanor’s heavy terra cotta flowerpot near the top railing.

The pot tipped over with a loud scrape, spilling dark potting soil across the wooden boards.

Ava lost her balance.

She tumbled backward down the last three steps and landed awkwardly on the grass.

“She pushed me,” Ava screamed.