“You must be looking forward to visiting your parents on such a momentous occasion,” Garak commented as he watched the doctor pack. Bashir would be present to witness his father’s release.
He hesitated over the open case for several seconds, an extra uniform tunic in his hand. Without raising his gaze, he carelessly deposited it on top of other meticulously stowed belongings. Then he shifted slightly, turning more of his back to Garak, and obstructing the expression on his face from view.
“I am, actually,” he finally replied, his voice decidedly even.
Garak knew a lie when he saw one.