I have never felt the desire to lie before, I’ve gone without it for thirty years, always truthful. Always smiling and telling the truth, and when I didn’t know what to say I just didn’t say anything, but now? Now that’s changed. If I don’t lie then she’ll panic and I don’t know if I can handle that.

I noticed it on her a moment ago, the bug, not a bug as in an insect, a bug as in a tracking device. It’s attached just under her collar, small enough to hide just out of sight. I’ve seen bugs before, everyone knows what they are.

It means she’s said something she shouldn’t, which makes sense because my best friend is a potty mouth.

She saw me gawping at her for a moment and asked if everything’s okay and I said “yes” even though I know it’s not.

As soon as the lie sprang from my mouth I felt the burn on the back of my neck. As soon as I had a moment alone I pushed my hair over my shoulder and felt the raised line signifying a first offence. I can’t lie again, but if I tell her about the bug, then I will get in trouble too and we all know what happens if you get three strikes.