A Scrap of Truth Buried Under a Tangle of Lies

It’s a lovely feeling when you walk into a room and everyone abruptly stops talking. I looked around at the people who I called friends; fidgeting and desperately trying to strike up conversation that wasn’t about me.


I never knew what they said about me until it was too late. Our office was huge, but it only took a few hours for the gossip to spread like corona. Last week my Mum had called me, and told me that my sister was in hospital again. I knew why, but my deskshare didn’t.


The favourite ones at the moment were that my sister was dead or a drug dealer. The receptionist was even asking me today what -really- happened.


To be honest, I just hope that my sister’s okay, the fall was massive and she still can’t tell who I am.

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