Now that she's within slapping distance, Penelope can see that A:) Whoever this person is, it is decidedly not her father, B:) She hasn't the first idea of exactly what, but he/it is clearly the darkest, ickiest kind of evil ever to be spat out from whatever passes for Hell in this universe, and C:) he has the worst taste in ties she has literally ever seen in her entire life, and that's saying something. It's really that last thing that hammers home the whole not-my-Dad thing-- Sebastian Lane may have spent so much time healing sick kids that he barely knew what decade it was half the time, but goddamn did the man know how to dress.

"What are you," she hisses at him, her normally-apathetic voice dripping with hate. It's rather like when an animal puffs itself up to try to fool bigger badder predators. "What have you done to him?"

He has her father's face; ergo, he took it from him.