CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Even though I’d suspected that Greta was the Robber, actually hearing the admission come from her own lips was unreal. I wanted to tell myself that I was dreaming, but I knew for a fact that I was still quite awake and conscious. Besides, there was no way I could ever dream of Greta crying the way she was now; such a thought hurt my heart too much to even think about.
“I’m sorry,” said Greta, sniffling. “I’m so sorry for not telling you. I just—”
“Why?” I said. “I mean, how long have you been the Robber? Does your father know?”
Greta nodded shakily. “Yes. Actually … he’s the reason I’m the Robber in the first place.”
I stepped into the house and closed the door behind me; I didn’t want any of her neighbors possibly overhearing this conversation. “I don’t understand. Ar
