Robbie was seven when he told his first lie. His mother had given him a wrinkled old bill and asked him to buy her a pack of king-size Kents at the grocery store. Robbie bought an ice cream cone instead. He hid the change under a big, white stone in the backyard of their apartment building and told his mother that a giant, redheaded kid with a missing front tooth had kicked him in the shin and taken the money. She believed him. And Robbie hasn’t stopped lying since.
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