Recognition hit him all at once as she turned to look at him, and Alfred didn't know how he hadn't spotted her sooner. He took half a step back, startled. It had been nearly a year since Jo Smith had disappeared from his life, but didn't he know the way she carried herself, the pattern of her steps, the exact tint of her hair? He should have spotted her from half a block away.

"Jo," he said before he could help himself — before he remembered that there was absolutely no chance she would recognize him. Maybe that was for the best. They hadn't exactly left things on a good note. She'd decided a blizzard was warmer than his company, and he'd been left having to explain himself to Zelda while poor Miss Urquart did her best to pretend the tension in the room wasn't so palpable one could cut it with a knife. If he was able to explain his current situation, would she help him? He thought she probably still would, if she believed him — but given that he didn't even know what the current situation was, that wasn't guaranteed. And flashing fangs at her and demanding her wand probably hadn't been the best way to start the conversation, if he was hoping for assistance.

You're supposed to be in America, he thought, but that was hardly the point at the moment, was it? More pressing issues at hand.

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