“Oh my God.” Aria stepped away from the window. “I think there’s someone out there!”
She ran down the stairs, Hallbjorn right behind her. As they reached the foyer, there was a crash out back, like someone had knocked over one of the metal garbage cans. Aria grabbed Hallbjorn’s arm and squeezed.
“It’s okay.” Hallbjorn pulled her close. “It’s probably just an animal.”
“It’s not an animal.” Aria’s heart was beating so quickly she felt woozy. “Someone is following me. Trying to get in.”
“Why would you say that?”
“I’ve had a stalker for months, remember?” She’d filled him in on the A drama that afternoon.
“Yes, but didn’t you say your stalker was dead?” Hallbjorn tiptoed toward the patio. “It’s an animal. I’ll scare it away.”
“Don’t go out there! I’ll call the police,” Aria said, picking up the hallway phone.
All the blood drained from Hallbjorn’s face and he lunged for the phone, banging it back on the receiver. “No! Don’t call the police!”
Aria stepped back in shock. “Whoa. What is going on with you?”
For a second, Hallbjorn looked like he was going to protest that nothing was wrong, but then his shoulders sagged, and he crumpled in on himself. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to tell you . . . I’m wanted by the police in Iceland. I’m afraid the police here might know, too. It’s why I’ve been hiding and avoiding cop cars. They could be after me. So please don’t call them. I’ll go check out the noise and then I’ll explain everything.” Hallbjorn made his way to the back door.
A sick feeling spread through Aria’s stomach and she retreated into the living room, where she sank down on the couch. She wondered if she should call the cops anyway. But this was Hallbjorn. There had to be a good reason he was wanted.
“It was just a raccoon,” Hallbjorn announced as he came back into the front hallway. “I saw it running away.”
Aria looked up at him. “Why are the police looking for you?”
“I led a protest against the destruction of a local puffin sanctuary outside of Reykjavík. I took you there once.”
“I remember,” Aria said slowly. “It was the place where the baby puffins hatched.” She’d fallen in love with the baby puffins as soon as she’d seen them, desperate to steal one and take it home as her pet.
Hallbjorn raised his head and gave her a plaintive look. “They were going to tear it down and build a mall. Displace all those puffins. Bulldoze their habitats. I couldn’t let that happen. So I protested, and I was arrested. But I put up a fuss, and then I escaped custody. The police were after me for days. I hid out at a friend’s, but then I realized I had to get out of the country. I took a boat to Norway and caught a plane out of there. My passport wasn’t flagged in Norway since no one was looking for me internationally yet.”
Aria blinked at him, trying to take this all in. “So . . . you weren’t coming to the States to see family after all?”
Hallbjorn shook his blond head. “I have some friends in New York who said I could stay with them. But when they diverted us to Philadelphia, I thought of you.” He took her hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away—I was afraid of what you might think of me. I was desperate. I couldn’t turn around and go back to Iceland. They’d throw me in jail. Can you forgive me?”
Aria pulled her hands away and curled them on her lap. She didn’t like that Hallbjorn had lied to her—so many people had deceived her in the past few months. But then, would she have let him in if she’d known he was wanted by the cops? She’d had enough police interaction lately to last her whole life.
She looked up. “You were thrown in jail just because you protected some puffins?” In this country, he’d probably get a slap on the wrist and probation. Eco groups like PETA and Greenpeace would make him their poster boy.
“Iceland is very strict,” Hallbjorn insisted. “Protesting and running from the police are practically as bad as committing murder.” A contrite look washed across his face, and he put his face in his hands. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Aria moved closer and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You were just trying to save the puffins—I would have protested against them tearing down the sanctuary, too. Maybe you could stay in the States for a while. Get a student visa and go to university here.”
As soon as the words spilled from her mouth, she began to play it out in her head. Maybe Hallbjorn could go to Hollis or Moore College of Art in Philly; Aria could visit him every weekend. The two of them could drive to New York so she could show him the sights, just like he’d shown her around Reykjavík. It would be wonderful to have someone to talk to, a date on the weekends, a connection to Iceland again.
But Hallbjorn shook his head. “I can’t stay here. My travel visa only lasts for another week. The only way I stay here is if I hide, and I’m not sure I want to do that, either.”
“There’s got to be another way.” Aria leaned back against the couch and thought for a moment. Her gaze bounced around the room, noting the pile of laundry on the floor, the diamond-shaped God’s eye hanging from the mirror, and the empty picture frame on the side table. Not so long ago, the frame had held a picture of Byron and Ella on their wedding day, lovingly embracing under a canopy of trees. When Aria was little, she used to gaze at that photo for hours, thinking that her parents were the most romantic people on the planet.