"Nothing at all." He gives a little cross between a grunt and a sigh as he sits down on the well-seasoned wooden bench, tipping his head back to rest against the wall. The moist heat is welcome after the chill of both the new dimension, and wintry New York.

"He's not even from around here, and the Whitlys have been New Yorkers for generations. I even messaged my mother to see if she remembered any English relatives that could be in the city."