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“Daisy, nice to meet you.” Her grip and her voice are firm.
“Jonas.” The father is gruffer, but the shake is friendly.
“If everything’s okay here, I’ll wait in the car.” The sheriff’s voice behind us shifts the parents’ gaze from us to the man.
“Yes, I think these folks are harmless enough not to require your intervention.” Daisy smiles at him.
When he leaves the room, the woman looks back at us. “Please excuse him. It’s not every day someone from New York comes looking for Emma, and we were all a little suspicious, including the sheriff.” She beckons us to sit by the fireplace on one of the two sofas. The family sits across from us on the other one.
“No problem. It’s better to be cautious these days than to let just anyone into the house.” Evan speaks for the first time, and the father’s gaze shifts to him.
He studies him like men study their daughters’ boyfriends: looking for every possible flaw that might make them unsuitable to take care of their girl. And maybe even to take him out if he does something wrong.
“That’s what we told Emma when we found out she put the videos online. To be honest, we are not happy she did it,” the woman explains, and I see that she’s the one I’ll be having this conversation with.
“Mom, I’m nineteen. I’m no longer a child,” Emma implores, blushing violently.
“I appreciate your point of view,” I say, directing my words to the mother. “There are many unreliable people online, and I understand the concern. But from what little I’ve seen, from the way she handles herself publicly, you’ve taught your daughter well how to defend herself against these people. She didn’t reply to any of the messages from my colleague, even when he offered her a contract.”
Evan nods, confirming my words. I look at him and find his encouraging eyes on mine before he looks back at her parents. It’s a small gesture, but it’s just what I need to alleviate the bit of nervousness I’ve felt since yesterday.
“I thought you were one of those guys who asks for naked pics, and I deleted the messages. Sorry.” Emma blushes.
“Men are asking you for nude photos? And you’re still on that website?” her father snaps, shocked.
“I never, for any reason, responded to them and immediately reported them and had them blocked,” she says in her defense.
“Was it someone you followed?” I asked, perplexed, since TikTok doesn’t allow you to send private messages to people who don’t follow you back.
“No, they did what Evan did. They went to the Instagram link and wrote to me there,” she explains, rolling her eyes like it happens on a regular basis. As a woman with social media accounts, I believe it.
“So you’re not only on one, but two of these websites!” Her father scolds her, making her blush and curl up on the couch.
“I can assure you she’s a careful girl and didn’t fall into some trap. In fact, we’ve gone through quite a lot of effort to find her. There’s only one post where you can see a road sign with the town’s name, and we only had her first name. This was a shot in the dark,” I explain.
He doesn’t seem convinced, but decides to drop the subject, perhaps to avoid arguing with his daughter in front of strangers.
“And you went to all this trouble for Emma?” The doubt in Daisy’s voice attracts our attention.
“I don’t know if you know how talented your daughter is, but it’s worth the trouble. It’s the kind of gift you don’t come across every day, and when you find it, you do everything in your power to offer them a contract,” I reassure her.
“And what record company are you from?”
“Jail Records, the new Jailbirds’ label,” I explain.
Emma lights up at the name and blushes violently while her mother frowns worriedly. “The ones who were in prison?”
The father’s eyes widen as he looks at his wife.
“I can assure you they’re good people,” Evan explains. “They made mistakes when they were young, but they paid for them. They’re all good guys who decided to leave their old record company and establish a new one to be transparent with their audience. I’m sure they’d know better than anyone else if someone wasn’t reputable, and they certainly wouldn’t let them near Emma. God knows how protected the children in their care are.” His words are so heartfelt that even I feel comforted by them.
Emma’s mom smiles slightly, and her dad seems to relax a bit, though not entirely.
“I know the newspapers have said a lot about their past, but I’ve known them for a while, and I know how far prison is from their way of life,” I add. “They’ve all been in juvie. They can’t change what happened, but they went in the complete opposite direction precisely because they didn’t want to go back. They made mistakes, they learned from them, they turned their lives around.”
Whether it’s because they don’t want to argue with strangers or they’re actually convincing themselves that we’re safe, I see them relax a little more.
“They also founded a nonprofit that raises money to help children and communities at risk to get kids off the street,” Emma chimes in, as she’s clearly done her homework.
