He lined us along the railing.
“Which one of you is the liar?” he accused.
We glance at each other momentarily.
“Who is the liar here?” he demanded, but no one spoke.
I looked straight up from my post to the vaulted ceiling.
He leaned over the railing and his argyle tie dangled from his neck.
“You know who you are,” he said broadening his knowing smile.
I gripped the railing in an effort to reduce my vertigo.
“You can try to be someone else, but you’re so transparent, it’s so obvious,” he threw his head back to accentuate the word obvious.
He descended down the spiral staircase and stopped next to me and whispered in my ear.
“You can’t hide it. We all know the real you.”
The girl on the opposite side of the staircase nervously giggled. He stopped next to her and she froze.
“Are you the liar?” he asked her.
I watched as he scuffed down the stairs.
“Everyone knows you can’t hide the real you,” he said to all of us as he jogged to the bottom of the stairwell.
He stopped and look up at all of us staring down at him.
“You can’t hide. Everyone can see right through you. It’s so obvious.”