Chapter 8: Truth Round

"Winston and Signe, you haven't voted," Vera said, her hand still in the air.

Four hands, six people, and the camera blinking at the end of the table.

"I'll vote yes," I said.

Winston turned his head to look at me.

"On one condition," I said. "Before the extension starts, we do truths. One each, on camera. Nobody refuses."

"That's my rule," Vera said, delighted. "I said nobody refuses."

"You did. And you said what happens here stays here."

"I did!" She laughed. "I love it. Truths. Okay. Who goes first?"

She could not have looked less worried if she'd tried.

Of course she wasn't worried. She had written the rule so nobody would ever use it.

"Casper," I said. "You're closest to the camera."

Casper cleared his throat and put on his ordinary grin.

"Truth. I hate my job on Mondays."

"Everyone hates their job on Mondays," Vera said.

"I hate it more."

People laughed. He had picked the smallest truth in the world, and he knew it.

"Melina," I said.

Melina's hands were in her lap. I could see them shaking under the table.

"My truth is..." She swallowed. "I'm not who you think I am, Winston."

Nobody said anything. The candle in front of her flickered.

Winston looked at his fiancée steadily, with no expression at all.

"Oh, honey," said Vera, soft and warm, reaching across the table to squeeze her wrist.