The reel ended on the final picture from that night: Charlie nearly lost in the crowd, turning back one last time. She was barely visible, far more distant here than in any of the other pictures, only recognizable by the color of her dress and hair.

“I still don’t see the point,” Jessica said impatiently. John grasped the lens and turned it; the picture shrank. “These are the same pictures.” She turned away and sighed.

“This is the point,” he said, slowly turning it back the other way. The film was high-resolution and the image continued to enlarge as he zoomed closer to Charlie.

“What is?”

John kept zooming in; Jessica gasped, stepping back from the machine. John let go of the lens. “It has a maximum range,” he said softly. The figure that filled the screen was elegant and feminine, but it was not human. The face was exquisitely sculpted and was split down the middle, a thin seam outlining where the two halves met. The limbs and body were segmented plates, their color almost iridescent.

“It looks like a mannequin,” Jessica gasped.

“Or a clown,” John added. “I saw her,” he said wonderingly. “The night Clay was attacked, she was on the road. She looked at me …” The eyes in the photo were difficult to see, and John leaned closer to the screen, trying to make them out.

“It’s the imposter, it’s the other Charlie,” Jessica breathed. John snapped off the projector, blinking as the haunting figure disappeared. He took the disc from his pocket and handed it to Jessica. She turned it over in her hand, her eyes widening. “Is this hers?”

“No,” John said shortly. “But I’m guessing that our mutual friend has one just like it, messing with our heads when we’re around her and making us see her as Charlie.” He leaned back against the table. “I think Clay took those pictures; I think he suspected something like this but needed to prove it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“These things, these discs, send out signals that overwhelm your brain, causing you to not see what’s really in front of you. Now, that wouldn’t work on a camera, obviously, but Henry thought of that, too.”

“So, the frequency or whatever it emits causes the image to blur,” Jessica said, catching on.

“Exactly, but it has a maximum range. The signal fades; that’s why he captured these from a distance. He suspected that whatever was causing the illusion must have its limits.” John began putting the film back into his bag. “That’s why she looks human in the other pictures, at least, human enough when blurred.”

Jessica studied the disc again for a moment before John took it back. “I still don’t understand,” she said. She looked around as though suddenly afraid of being caught.

“I think it’s exactly what I suspected,” he said. “Except I was completely wrong.”