Page 43 of For Wrath and Redemption
Her lips curve down slightly, and I laugh.
“Are you shocked that I’m cooperating, Trouble? D’you expect me to throw a tantrum?”
Her eyebrow arches over the top of her sunglasses, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t like when I call her Trouble, but she won’t admit it.
“The video was a good call,” I say honestly. “I’m intrigued. Figured I’d see what else you have up your sleeve.”
I do my best to plaster sincerity on my face. I’ve fooled people with this look for years, but being scrutinized by Claire Davis is higher stakes. She’s unbiased, and that will make her harder to convince. But if I can’t scare or threaten her away, I have to try a different tactic.
I have to charm her.
The car pulls to a stop outside of a large brick building before she can respond, and I’m surprised to see a lack of flashing lights when we park.
“Where are the cameras?” I ask as I wait for José to open the car door. “We meeting them in there?”
“There are no cameras. We don’t want it to seem like we set this up as a media stunt.”
I furrow my brow. “But itisa stunt, and we need the media to know about it.”
“They will, but we’re controlling the narrative.” Her lips quirk up at the side, then she hooks her finger in the cuff of her blouse sleeve and tugs. “It’s all up here.”
I can’t help but chuckle as I follow Claire out of the car. It’s allup her sleeve.
The moment I’m free of the car’s cab, I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with air not tainted with lavender and sugar. I spent the entire drive taking small breaths through my mouth. Any longer and I might have passed out.
“Ms. Davis,” a short, older woman with a Swedish accent greets us as we step up to large wooden doors. “Mr. Hendrix. Welcome.”
“Hello, Mrs. Nilsson.” Claire shakes the woman’s hand, then turns to me. “Jonah, this is Ebba Nilsson. She runs the Stockholm Youth Center.”
I give the woman a genuine smile and take her hand in mine. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Nilsson. I appreciate you letting me come in today.”
“Yes, thank you,” Claire says. “We’re grateful you could accommodate us on such short notice.”
“It’s not every day the kids get to hang out with a celebrity. And don’t worry, they’ve all been told the rules. Come on in. I’ll bring you to them.”
I follow Mrs. Nilsson into the building and give Claire’s arm a nudge with mine.
“Rules?”
She nods. “They’re allowed selfies and autographs but no live streaming, and I’ve asked that they don’t post anything until after you’ve left.”
My eyes widen, and she taps the sleeve of her blouse again. I huff out another laugh.Controlling the narrative.The media will be learning about my visit secondhand, so it will seem organic. It will seemgenuine.
Another simple yet brilliant move.
Calculated, yes. Manipulative? Maybe. But brilliant just the same.
Mrs. Nilsson leads me into a large room full of kids, and then she introduces me in Swedish. She also introduces me to an interpreter who will shadow me while I’m here since I only speak English, and a lot of these kids don’t.
The first fifteen minutes are just them asking me a ton of random questions. Where’s my band? What’s my favorite video game? When did I start playing guitar? Do I like kladdkaka? Have I seen the new superhero movie? What’s Sav Loveless like? Can I skateboard?
The questions come in rapid fire. My poor interpreter can barely keep up, but it’s the most fun I’ve had doing an interview in a long time. I even lose track of Claire for a while because I can’t look away from the crowd of kids vying for my attention.
When the questions die down, they take me to a large table where they’ve been working on crafts. Paint, tissue paper, pipe cleaners, glitter, little googly eyes. Any craft material you can think of, they’ve got it on this table, but my attention zeroes in on a bin of small wooden baubles and figurines.
“What is this for?” I ask a little girl.
She waits for my translator to ask her in Swedish, then she answers me with a smile.
