The police car came to a stop, and Mabel was promptly escorted into the station. As she walked in, flanked by officers, she couldn’t shake the sheer absurdity of the situation. What is really going on? How am I at a police station within the first hour of moving to Antoria? How did things go so horribly wrong just from staring?!

  She was led into a dimly lit interrogation room and placed in a chair before a table. The officers left her alone for five minutes, during which she debated every life choice that had led her here. Suddenly, the door swung open. Two officers marched in—one positioned himself behind her, the other sat across from her. Without warning, the officer in front slammed his hand on the table and switched on a bright lamp, directing its beam straight at her face.

  Uhhh, why are they acting so dramatic? Mabel thought.

  Though slightly unnerved, life had taught Mabel the fine art of outward composure. Even as a panic attack simmered within, she remained eerily calm.

  “What is your name?” the officer demanded; the light still blindingly focused on her.

  Mabel responded calmly, “I am Mabel Harold.”

  Immediately, she went into strategy mode. Okay, let’s go with the pity tactic. I don’t want trouble. Just let the tears out and beg—that should work.

  The officer’s voice remained firm. “I’ll get straight to the point, Miss Mabel Harold. Did you, or did you not, stare at Mr. Randall Osbert?”

  Tears welled in her cat-shaped eyes which housed two beautifully formed green pupils as she executed her plan flawlessly. “Yes! Yes, I confess! I did stare at him, but it was only for a little while! I promise I didn’t know it was a crime! Please, forgive me! I’ll never do it again!”

  The officer softened. “It’s okay, Miss Mabel. Staring isn’t a crime. Staring is a natural part of daily life—you can’t really talk to someone without looking at them, can you? I’m staring at you right now, aren’t I? Why would you think you committed a crime?”

  Mabel froze. The tears dried up instantly. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe because I’m sitting in an interrogation room?”

  The officer turned the lamp away from her face and chuckled. “Welcome to Antoria.”

  Both officers burst into laughter as the overhead lights switched on.

  The officer behind her moved to her side, still grinning. “This is just how we do things in Antoria. I understand your confusion. You’re free to go.”

  Mabel blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry, but that explained absolutely nothing.”

  The other officer patted her shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry. This happens to everyone. Pretty much every citizen has been through this, myself included.”

  His partner nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah.”

  Mabel narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

  The first officer smirked. “Lying is illegal here.”

  “…Okay?” Mabel leaned forward skeptically.

  “Even the smallest lie can get you arrested,” he continued. “For instance, if you had denied staring, you’d have been imprisoned for one minute. No bail.”

  Mabel could now see why she had been dragged here. But she still couldn’t fathom why such a law existed in the first place. Sure, I get why lying is bad, but how do they even confirm the truth? And why is it taken this seriously, even for the most meaningless lies?

  “Why arrest people over meaningless lies, like whether or not a person stared at another? And how do you even prove someone is lying? Most importantly, why do you do it, doesn’t it make your work more stressful when there are more serious crimes to take care of?” Mabel asked, now doubtful of the sanity of Antoria’s leaders.

  The officer smiled warmly. “Oh, we love it. It’s actually a lot of fun. Especially watching tourists like you freak out when they think they’re in big trouble.”

  His partner, now inexplicably holding a cup of tea, chimed in, “Yeah! Best job ever. HAHAHA!”

  The first officer joined him in his laugh. Mabel stared, deadpan.

  Once their laughter subsided, the second officer added, “Also, if you think about it, lying is the root of most crimes. If you eliminate the root, you don’t get the crimes that stem from it. And we have a simple but effective tool to detect lies—the LDM.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Mabel squinted. “What’s the LDM?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” the officer grinned. “Lie Detective Machine.”

  Mabel sighed. Why am I not surprised by that literal name?

  Then she asked, “Is it me or do Antorians usually give literal names to things?”

  “That’s often the case.” replied one of the other officers.

  Curious, she asked, “So, The VIC must be very important, right?”

  Both officers instantly straightened, their expressions turning reverent. “Of course! The VIC is the most important company in the world. Its impact is felt across the globe in ways society could never have imagined.”

  Mabel’s mind twirled. So, if I have a job titled ‘The Super Important Job,’ it must be something major… Yes, I knew it was the right move. I was a bit bothered that I had to give up everything and depend on a job I knew nothing about except the fact that it is super important. Back to the matter at hand; How is this law not widely known yet? How sure am I that this law is not made up?

  She asked, “How is this law not public knowledge?”

  The first officer shrugged. “Every Antorian plays their part in keeping it secret.”

  “But you have a ton of tourists. How has no one spilled the beans?”

  The second officer smirked. “Maybe the Antorian spirit enters tourists when they arrive, and they can’t help but keep the secret too.”

  Mabel raised a brow. “Yeah, okay. This is a prank.”

  Both officers grinned mischievously. One pulled out a blue pen and placed it on the table. “Say this is black.”

  Mabel hesitated. “What happens if I lie?”

  “You go to jail.”

  Mabel scoffed. “That could just be part of the prank. What is one minute in jail without bail.”

  The officer leaned forward eagerly. “Then say it. Say it’s black.”

  Mabel folded her arms. “Are there any consequences besides jail?”

  The other officer shook his head. "No, it's just jail time. But the minor lies each individual can make in a day without serious repercussions is five. Any more than that, and you’ll be deported if you’re a foreigner—or imprisoned for a month if you’re a citizen.”

  Mabel stared at them. Wait… could this actually be real?

  The idea was ridiculous. A nationwide secret upheld by everyone? Mabel found herself stuck between disbelief and paranoia. Was this law real, or was she just the latest victim of an elaborate prank? It was too outrageous to be true, yet so absurdly specific that it couldn't be false. If it was real, then it deserved to be classified as one of the Seven Wonders of the World. After all, if structures could be considered wonders, surely bizarre societal behaviors could qualify, too. And the secret of Antoria? That would be right at the top—if it was real.

  “What proof do you have?” she finally asked.

  The second officer scoffed. "Why ask for that now? Isn’t that the first thing you should have asked?"

  The first officer smirked. “Check Chapter 4, Section 8 of the Constitution.”

  Immediately, Mabel pulled up Antoria’s official legal platform. As her eyes scanned through the policies, her entire worldview shifted. This wasn’t just a joke. It was there, in official, government-approved text.

  “This… shouldn’t be possible,” she whispered in shock.

  The first officer chuckled. “I know, right?”

  “How? How is this possible?!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief.

  The second officer raised an eyebrow. "Why are you so shocked?”

  Mabel rubbed her temples. “At first, I thought this was just a joke. But now… this is insane.”

  The officer retorted. "I told you. It’s the spirit of Antoria."

  Mabel narrowed her eyes. "That doesn’t make sense."

  "Do you have a better explanation?" he challenged.

  Mabel opened her mouth, then promptly shut it. She was utterly speechless at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

  The first officer elaborated, "The ‘spirit’ is this: Everyone wants anyone new in Antoria to have the exact experience you just had. It’s a badge of honor to send a tourist to the station. The guy who reported you? He’s probably going to be grinning all month just knowing he got one. So, the secret stays a secret because, frankly, it’s hilarious. It’s a national pastime. If you had a friend visiting tomorrow, you wouldn’t tell them about this law either, because you’d want to watch them go through it. It’s tradition. It’s fun. And, to be honest, it gives us officers a good laugh. Makes the job more entertaining."

  The other officer nodded. "Yeah."

  Mabel took a moment to absorb this revelation. "I have to say, it is a really weird tradition. But I… get it," she said, deep in thought.

  "Good." The first officer nodded approvingly. "Well, Miss Mabel, because you told the truth, you’re free to go. But from now on, once the LDM is active, you won’t get a chance to correct yourself. The moment you lie, you’d be arrested. No second chances. So, tread carefully and always, always speak the truth."

  Mabel exhaled. "Noted. Thanks for the heads up."

  The officers grinned. "Our pleasure. You’re free to go.”

  As Mabel stepped out of the interrogation room, she immediately noticed several officers gathered around a screen, watching a replay of her earlier panic in the room—laughing. One of them turned, spotted her, and nudged his colleagues. "Hey! That’s the newbie!"

  Another officer walked up, grinning. "It’s been a while since we caught such a gem. Thank you for making our week!" He chuckled as he walked past her, leaving Mabel standing there, staring after him with mild contempt.

  Another officer, still laughing, shook his head. "Seriously, how did you even come up with the idea that staring was a crime? What kind of brain do you have to invent a fear like that?"

  Mabel clenched her jaw. I should leave before these people annoy me any further. Wait, if officers are this way, how will the citizens be? She sighed and continued walking, hoping to make a dignified exit.

  Unfortunately, another officer blocked her path, casually sipping a cup of coffee. "Wait, wait, hold on!" he said, still chuckling. "You really cried because you thought staring was a crime? Hahahaha!"

  Mabel turned on her heel, determined to ignore him, but he called after her, still grinning. "Hold on! You cry beautifully. I think you should know that."

  "I DO!" she snapped coldly.

  Mabel’s annoyance peaked as the officers continued to laugh while she walked past them. The door seemed to be getting further and further away. Was it moving? Or was that just her growing frustration?

  Why haven’t I reached the door yet?! I need to get out of here before I commit an actual crime.