The Duel
After regaining her composure, Tara had called down to the front desk but there was no answer. She paced the small space, feeling every bit a bear in a zoo enclosure but without the faces staring in at her. “Think Tara,” she muttered. “Think. What can you do?”
“I grew up with a chief for a father. I learned to lie without lying at a young age. Didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess I did. I just got in a lot of trouble over the years and accepted it was inevitable.”
“So did I. But even when I lied without lying he always gave me this look, like he suspected something but couldn’t prove it. It got worse once I became a teen and had to take my oath to him as my chief.”
“But he didn’t give you the look at lunch?”
“No. Not at all. And I have no idea why.”
She blinked at the memory. It was
