There were subtle differences. It could have been the clothes, the graceful lines, the easy roll of her hips, but the one in the park seemed like she saw a dinner table every night. Though the movement of lean muscle was clear underneath her skin, it wasn't pronounced, and not nearly as defined as daily work on the island could make it. And the hair... The hair was shorter by a few inches. It would only be noticed by someone who'd done quite a study -- but the differences were indeed there.
The voice swirled her around like a slowly-moving top, and the smile she gave for the person who knew her name was in turns welcoming and puzzled. Her eyes swept behind John and then to either side of the both of them, before she started back toward him.
"Hello," she said, taking a few steps forward. She studied him, really studied him. To her, he looked like he expected something. She smiled again, stopped a few feet away from him (a respectable, polite distance), and waited. She wondered what she was waiting for.