— Film it, film it, this is epic, — her daughter-in-law said, holding up her phone.

— Grandma, wow, actress of the year, — shouted the second grandson.

Her own son stood off to the side, smiling crookedly.

— She’s just trying to scare us, she wants attention, — he said as calmly as if he were talking about bad weather.

She went under again, and for a moment it grew quiet. But when she surfaced coughing, the laughter resumed.

— Okay, enough of the circus, climb out already, — the daughter-in-law said irritably.

No one reached out a hand.

At some point she finally managed to grab the edge of the pier, braced her elbows, and with difficulty pulled herself out. She lay on the boards, breathing heavily, water dripping from her hair, her lips trembling.

The laughter slowly faded.

She rose to her feet. She looked at them for a long time — without shouting, without hysteria. Just a gaze with neither tears nor pleading.

And then she did something that left them in shock.  

Water streamed from her, her dress clung to her body, her hands shook not from cold but from humiliation.

The grandson was still smiling, though less confidently now.