Natalie had never liked being lied to.
That was a childish way of phrasing it, perhaps, but simplicity had its uses. More refined language existed for the offens - strategic omission, controlled disclosure, selective withholding, and protective silence - but all of it dressed the same injury in better fabric.
A lie remained a lie.
And Arik, for all that he had looked at her with those impossible gold eyes and pretended the matter was either beneath explanation or too tangled to survive one, had lied.
Not always directly. That was the irritating part. Arik was too disciplined for easy dishonesty. He had been misdirected. Which was, in many ways, worse. Direct lies at least had the dignity of being visible once broken. Arik's sort required excavation.
So Natalie excavated.
