“Technically I didn’t lie” is what people say right after they did.

The appeal to technicality is a confession wearing a suit. It concedes the whole case: that someone was left with a false picture, that you knew, and that you built the sentence so you would have somewhere to stand. Lying is about the impression you meant to create, not whether each word survives inspection.

Try a cleaner test than word choice: ask what the other person now believes and whether you wanted them to. If the answer is uncomfortable, say the straightforward version before anyone has to work it out. Precision is a poor substitute for honesty, and people can tell.