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Are lies good, or bad?
"Where is he?" The man demands. I'm tied to a chair, my wrists bound behind me.
"I don't know. He didn't tell me." I say, but I do know. I know exactly where the boy is, I helped him, after all. I'd hid him where I knew no one would ever be able to find him.
"I saw you with him! He was talking to you." The man before me thunders, I flinch.
"I told you, he didn't tell me!" I shout back before the cold metal of the knife presses against my throat.
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