Getting no reply, he tried to engage again. 'That breeze feels like opening an oven door.' My only response was mopping my crinkled brow with a handkerchief. I managed a small smile despite my nerves. I'd deceived him before, and I could do it again. Everything depended on it.
In the office, my thumb on his pad certified my reports. They were lies, but I was well-practised, and the government man wasn't one to ask real questions. It was a necessary deception to keep our community alive.
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