In the left-hand square at the top of the grid, Ansel’s dads are working away at their production company. Only I know it isn’t really the de Leons; one or both of them have been replaced. The Duplicates—or maybe the guards who replaced their originals—probably set up this camera on Gravelle’s orders, so that Gravelle’s master plan could be rubbed right in our faces. I look over at Ansel, who audibly gasps when Archer enters the screen, laughing about a social media post and showing his phone to his dads, who laugh too. There’s no sound, but we get the gist of what’s happening. My stomach drops at the realization that this is Gravelle showing us proof that he successfully replaced Archer and his dads. He’s bragging about it, using this footage as a way to boast about what he’s done.

Suddenly nauseous, I gaze at the next live feed. It’s video footage of the Frederica and Tessa Duplicates trying on dresses and coats from a giant pile on the bed. All the clothes still have the tags on them. I don’t even know what to make of those two—it’s not like I was fond of their originals—but still, it’s sickening to think of their lives being snatched from them like that, and with no one the wiser.

The rest of the squares in the grid are equally disturbing. A live feed of Zeke and Mira Choate and their son Jake, and one of Bianca answering questions from eager supporters at her rally. Next, there’s a feed of Jane at home in California for spring break with Oliver, Chloe, Lucy, and Booker, and I have to hold back the bile in my throat when I see that one. The thought of Jane and Booker Duplicates infiltrating that house, and Ollie’s sisters having no idea that their parents aren’t really their parents… And that their older brother isn’t really their brother… We’re watching Jane bake cookies with them in the kitchen. The girls are making a mess of rainbow sprinkles and chocolate chips, grabbing fistfuls of them and popping them in their mouths when Jane isn’t looking.

Finally, my eyes rest on the last square in the grid. It’s footage of my father in his office. I’m prepared for the tears that will inevitably come, watching this clone impersonate my dad, but surprisingly, or maybe not, they don’t surface. At least I know he’s not really my dad. Unlike Chloe and Lucy, who are so little and innocent, and who would never suspect their parents are imposters.