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“I agree, wife.” Hallbjorn turned his new wedding ring around on his finger. “But I want to show you something first.”

“Is it another surprise?” Aria asked, her mind whirling. Maybe Hallbjorn had arranged some kind of amazing dinner. Or booked them tickets on a mini-honeymoon.

“You’ll see when we get there.” Hallbjorn threw his leg over the seat and began to pedal.

They took off down the street, the cans clanging. Instead of turning into the Borgata’s main entrance, Hallbjorn bypassed it and banked left into a back driveway. They snaked through a bunch of parking lots and loading zones until they stopped at a large metal garage door. Hallbjorn dismounted from the bike and dusted off his tuxedo, which had gotten sprayed from some salt on the road.

Aria looked around. Not a soul was in sight, and they were hemmed in by huge, dirty snowdrifts. A bunch of semitrucks stood waiting, their cabs unoccupied. She thought she heard a cough and froze, but as she waited, no more sounds came.

“Why are we here?” she asked shakily.

“I’ll show you.” Hallbjorn walked to the garage door and began to pull on the small handle at the bottom. Before Aria could stop him, he’d hefted up the door to reveal a small, dark room. The smell of cat pee hit Aria’s nostrils immediately, and she suppressed a gag. When Aria’s vision adjusted, she saw two black cages on opposite ends of the room. Large shapes huddled behind the bars. Then she heard a loud, menacing roar.

She turned to Hallbjorn, momentarily dumbstruck. “Are these the panthers from the show?”

“Yes.” Hallbjorn flipped on a light, which just made the beasts growl louder. They looked even bigger up close, their bodies solid muscle, their eyes glowing yellow. They were shut into two tiny cages barely big enough for them to properly turn around or lie down in. Their food and water bowls were empty. There was poop all over the floor, and the room seemed way too cold for an animal to be comfortable.

“How did you find them?” Aria gasped.

“I did some poking around while you were getting your makeup done,” Hallbjorn explained. “It was easier to find them than I thought. No one looks after them for most of the day. They’re only important when they have to perform.” He gestured to one of the panthers. It was now huddled in a ball, shivering.

Tears came to Aria’s eyes. “The poor things.”

Hallbjorn turned to her, his face suddenly full of excitement. “But we can help them. I want us to set them free. Give them the life they deserve.”

Aria squinted at the panthers’ cages. There were several huge locks on the doors. “How are we supposed to do that?”

“I think I’ve figured it out. Between seven and eight A.M., their handler unlocks the cages so that they can get some exercise—which is just them getting led around on short leashes. Tomorrow morning, I could distract the handler and you could sneak in there, open the doors, and set the panthers free.”

“I have to set them free?” One of the cats yawned, and Aria pointed to its enormous canine teeth. “And risk them tearing me limb from limb?”

“Then I’ll unlock their cages. You distract the handler.” Hallbjorn looked exasperated. “The point is that we’ll be letting them out. Freeing them from their oppressors.”

“So they can wander around Atlantic City?” Aria took a small step away from him. “Hallbjorn, this isn’t exactly their natural habitat. Where are they going to live? Under the boardwalk? What are they going to do if it snows? What will they do for food?”

“It’s better than the situation they have here.” Hallbjorn swept his arm toward the cages. The panthers both let out mighty roars as if in response.

“But a loose panther could hurt someone!” Aria cried. “Think about those old people at the chapel just now. Do you seriously think they could outrun a panther?”

Hallbjorn put his hands on his hips. “I’m sure they’re very gentle. And they won’t try to hurt anyone—they just want to be free. They’ll probably head straight for the marshland out of town.”

Aria stared at him, waiting for the moment Hallbjorn would start snickering and say that he was just kidding—he was just going to call the ASPCA and have them take care of the situation. But the laugh didn’t come. He stared at her fixedly, his face utterly serious.

“I want to share everything with you now that we’re married,” Hallbjorn said. “And I also want our marriage to be about something bigger than just us. We should conquer the world together.”

Aria took another step out of the garage, her heel landing in a pile of slush. “But not like this. We could really get in trouble. I thought you came here to escape trouble.”

Hallbjorn’s face fell. “Well, I thought you’d be into the idea. I thought you cared.”

“I do care. I love how committed you are to causes like this, and I want to share in your passion. But not by breaking the law.”

Aria glanced over her shoulder. They could get in trouble just by being here. Biedermeister and Bitschi could sue them for trespassing. And this place was so grim. All of the snowdrifts had turned black from truck exhaust. The smell of cat poop was making her eyes water. She looked down at the snake ring on her finger. Suddenly, the jocularity of their wedding ceremony seemed long ago and far away.

“Maybe we should think about this a little bit more,” Aria said, winding her arm around Hallbjorn’s waist. “If you really want to help the panthers, we should call some sort of authority—someone who can take them to a safe place. Besides, this is our wedding night. Wouldn’t you rather be doing wedding-night things instead of planning how to set panthers free?”

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