Greta did not know, thank you very much, and she's having a fair bit of difficulty processing this. How can he know the details of people's lives without witnessing them? How much does he know, or--or hear? He did say he'd heard something.

Her stomach sinks as she thinks: something like a song?

"Is that how it works?" she asks, before realizing she hasn't been thinking aloud. "You just hear their stories like--like songs? Even when you've only just met them?"

Maybe she should be saying 'our,' not 'theirs.' Maybe he can hear her story, too. She can't bring herself to ask.

She lowers her voice, not happy about what she's piecing together. "And then you met Johnny, and heard his story, or his song, and it... it sounded wrong. Is that it?"