In Gwen Stacy's home, two identical-looking girls sat on opposite sides of the dining table. One sat with her back straight, legs together, and hands folded in front of her, looking gentle and demure. The other had one hand resting on the table and the other casually on her lap, still wearing a light-colored uniform.
George stood between the two girls, looking first at his biological daughter, then at the girl who was not his biological daughter but was no different from her.
"All right, Sheriff George, is the interrogation over? Can I leave now?" asked the girl in uniform.
"This isn't an interrogation. You know it isn't." George looked at her and said, "I just want to understand why there's another girl in this world who looks exactly like my daughter—and why she's Spider-Man."
"I already told you, I have to be Spider-Man. That's non-negotiable. Though dragging your good little daughter into this was indeed my fault. I won't come looking for her again. That's it."
With that, Spider-Gwen stood and headed for the door, but George moved faster. He stepped forward and blocked her path.
George was naturally much more imposing than Spider-Gwen, who had not quite left adolescence behind, but he still took a step back so that standing too close would not feel oppressive. This old cop knew all too well how to handle people tactfully. Besides, he truly could not treat a girl who looked exactly like his daughter the way he would pressure a criminal.
"You said you're Gwen Stacy from another universe. What I don't understand most is how your father could agree to..."
"He didn't agree." Spider-Gwen shook her head. "Even now, he still doesn't understand. But I don't care."
"What made you become the way you are now?"
"Hard to say."