SUBJECT ALICESTATUS UNRESOLVEDLAST SEEN DATE DISPUTEDFILE STILL OPEN
01 / THE QUESTION
Where is Alice?
In Seabrook, it is easier to find a postcard than a straight answer.
The available material describes Alice only as a local teenager. A first name on a notice. A space where a photograph should be. Enough for people here to recognise; not enough for an outsider to understand.
There is no reliable account of her last movements in this file. No confirmed explanation for her absence. The person following the questions through Seabrook has not identified themselves either.
Someone has collected photographs. Someone has marked a map. Whether they were finding a route or leaving one for somebody else remains an open question.
Start with what you can see. Keep what you suspect on a separate page.
A missing notice and the July 12–14 festival share a shop window. The notice says June 14. The portrait area is damaged; its cause is unknown.
02 — The car by the dunes
A yellow Toyota on a sandy coastal road. The handwritten question asks whether it is Alice’s car. No ownership is established. A cassette rests on the rear shelf.
03 — Nothing happened here?
Police tape across the lighthouse gate. A handwritten note questions an apparent reassurance. Neither the date nor the reason for the closure is recorded.
04 — The old pumphouse
A brick pumphouse beside the marsh. The handwritten note asks whether Alice walked here. In the search account, an older woman recalls Alice walking beyond the boundary; the pump house is passed over. The photograph does not confirm her presence.
Mika’s margin: “The question marks were already doing useful work. Please stop erasing them.” Join the reading
NEW ACCESSIONS / THE FILE IS GROWING
Someone kept all of this.
A blank motel register. A light at Town Hall. A festival that went ahead. Eighteen more pieces of Seabrook, and no agreed order to put them in.
Filed with the Room 17 material. No one in the image has been conclusively identified as Alice. The location where this print was found is reported, not established by the photograph.
A boardwalk payphone has been circled. No call record, caller or time accompanies the photograph. The annotation is a question, not a recovered conversation.
The recorded account names the Seabreeze Motel. Its register skips Room 17; its clerk says nobody stayed there Tuesday. Alice’s presence is never established.
Red circles mark the lighthouse, town hall, police station, Seabreeze Motel and Old Mill. The writer’s identity and the order of the annotations are unknown.
04 / SIX RECORDINGS
Follow the record. Question the order.
Six recordings follow an unidentified person through Seabrook. Read the accounts together; remember that a narrator can notice something without understanding it.
The narrator gives no name. These are their observations, not independently verified findings.
01 / MAIN STREET
A conversation interrupted.
“He stopped talking in the middle And never quite came back”
Tom says he knew her from high school. His manager calls him into the back. Elsewhere, a flyer is torn down each day and replaced by morning. We do not know who removes it, or who keeps putting it back.
The recorded press conference includes questions about Tuesday night, the tracks and the service road. The sheriff says appropriate areas have been examined. The mayor moves to the next question.
“Then changes half the story When somebody else gets near”
A boy places Alice near the old amusement pier, then revises his account. Fresh tyre marks appear on the road behind the dunes. A boat leaves without moonlight. These observations have not been tied to a single event.
“None of it says Alice None of it says she wasn’t here”
Towels, a warm television, salt on the floor, sand under the sink, two lipstick marks on a cup and a receipt with half a date. A photograph beneath the bed shows four people by the pier. One is turned away.
Section five ends at private property. The marina and service road are marked checked; the pump house is passed over. An older woman says Alice walked there. Someone beside her says “Don’t start.”
At summer’s end, the narrator finds a familiar picture face down under the seawall rail. The mother’s porch light has gone dark. Neither detail establishes a conclusion. The official case remains open.
Fans, night owls, map readers and people who only came here to identify the synthesizer. Mika has been answering some questions. This has not necessarily helped.