I’m looking at Volume 1,536 of the Epstein files, page 311. It’s an early 2016 email thread between Jeffrey Epstein and a woman whose name is redacted by the Department of Justice.

In the thread, Epstein asks the unidentified woman for a “naughty selfie” and later sends her a camera. In late February, he replies with a different ask: “Do you have any friends that might want to work for me?...I will give you money if you find someone willing to travel, 22-25, educated. Personable.”

The exchange carries extra resonance when you consider that Epstein is accused of sex trafficking minors, with the Department of Justice estimating that he had more than 1,200 potential victims. But I just happen to flip to it randomly during my recent visit to the newly opened Donald J. Trump and Jeffrey Epstein Memorial Reading Room.

Tucked away in a nondescript gallery in New York City’s Tribeca neighborhood, the reading room is a massive library of all 3.5 million pages of Epstein-related records released by the Department of Justice earlier this year, compiled into more than 3,700 individual volumes. From May 8 to 21, the reading room will be open to the public by appointment only.

The library—essentially, the Epstein files in analog—is intended to represent the staggering scale of Epstein’s crimes, as well as the impunity with which he carried them out. More than 17,000 pounds of evidence is on display at the library, says David Garrett, the main organizer of the exhibit at the Institute for Primary Facts, a nonprofit intended to promote transparency and accountability in the US government.

“The evidence in this room is evidence of one of the most horrific crimes in American history,” Garrett says. “When people come through this room, I hope they realize that in America, we have the rule of law, and if they stand up they can take action and demand accountability for the crimes that were committed.”

Epstein, who died in prison in 2019, is now synonymous with systemic corruption and abuse, particularly in light of his ties to President Donald Trump. The installation features a detailed timeline of Epstein’s relationship with Trump, from their purported initial meeting in Palm Beach in 1987 to Epstein’s 1993 attendance at Trump’s wedding to Marla Maples to the end of Epstein’s membership at Mar-a-Lago in 2007, when Trump allegedly witnessed him behaving inappropriately toward the teenage daughter of another member. The shelves are organized around an exhibit in support of Epstein’s survivors, with candles laid out on the ground to represent the more than 1,200 victims. In response to a request for comment, White House spokesperson Abigail Jackson said Trump has “been totally exonerated on anything relating to Epstein,” claiming that he “has done more for Epstein’s victims than anyone.”

Constructing the timeline was a feat unto itself, says Garrett, who notes that the Institute employed numerous fact-checkers and lawyers to make sure all the information presented was verifiable and accurate. It took about a month to assemble the files, including finding a venue willing to host the installation as well as a printer able to compile them.

“There was a lot of fear of recrimination, which you can understand given James Comey was just indicted,” Garrett says. The DOJ recently indicted the former FBI director for making a “threat [to] inflict bodily harm” on the president after Comey posted a photo on Instagram of seashells spelling out the phrase, “86 47.” “And this is a lot bigger than a picture of seashells at the beach,” Garrett adds.

Though the installation will be open to the public, only journalists and members of law enforcement are permitted to actually read through the files; others will still be able to view the timeline and the tribute to survivors. This is because the Department of Justice failed to redact many of the survivors’ names when it released a new tranche of files last January, potentially exposing them to harassment or retribution, says Garrett. “Transparency and accountability is important, but from the very beginning we’ve centered this project around the victims and survivors,” he says. “That’s really what it’s about.”