Miho studied her reflection in the mirror and frowned in frank assessment. Touching her face lightly, she ran through a mental list of flaws—eyes a little too small, chin a little too strong and hair that could use the attention of her salon. Her frown turned slightly sour, maybe she was being too harsh, but she preferred to think of herself as truthful—at least in this respect.
There were so many lies she told herself throughout the day; little ones that came too easily and, of course, the big ones that let her function enough to do her job. Without those carefully maintained illusions, without the belief that their actions did some good, she'd have to give voice to the conscience that threatened to overrule her intellect.
No, she thought shaking her head slightly and forcibly relaxing her frown into a more neutral expression. It's better to call a spade a spade. There are only so many lies you can tell yourself, even when honesty hurts.