The new forward—I think his name might be Tremblay—picks up Karlsson’s phone. “Hey, he was listening to a voicemail,” he announces to the room. He holds the phone up to his ear. After a moment, he frowns. “The guy’s talking in Swedish. I can’t understand him.” There’s a flurry of talk before a tall blond steps up, holding out his hand. “Give it to me.”
