The judge leans back in his chair.
“Why did you rob the store?”
Michael hesitates.
“Because… I needed the money.”
“What did you need three thousand dollars for?”
The silence that follows is deafening.
Michael bites his lip.
“For things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Just things,” the boy insists. “It doesn’t matter. I did it and I’ll accept the punishment.”
Judge Caprio has heard thousands of confessions in his career.
But never one that sounded this desperate… and this false at the same time.
He signals the deputy.
“Bring me the report for the Sullivan Street robbery.”
A moment later the file arrives.
The judge reads quietly.
With every line, his eyebrows pull closer together.
Finally he looks back at Michael.
“According to this report,” the judge says calmly,
“the thief forced open a reinforced steel door using a three-foot crowbar.”
Michael nods nervously.
“Yes sir.”
“The alarm system was then disabled by cutting specific wires in the electrical box.”
The judge pauses.
“And then the thief moved a two-hundred-pound safe.”
Another pause.
“Michael… how exactly did you do all that?”
The boy swallows.
“I’m strong for my age.”
“Where did you get the crowbar?”
“I… found it.”
“Where?”
“In a dumpster.”