Jenna closed the laptop.
Videos showed a low-quality clip of Alycia playing an open mic. The sound was terrible, the guitar slightly out of tune. Jenna watched it three times. Alycia’s fingers moved like water over the strings. Searching for- alycia starr in-All CategoriesMo...
Jenna typed it again, slower this time, as if the name might dissolve if she pressed too hard. Alycia Starr. Then she selected All Categories —images, news, videos, shopping, maps. Everything. As if Alycia might have hidden herself inside a product listing or a forgotten blog from 2009. Jenna closed the laptop
Shopping was cruel. A vintage jacket listed as “Alycia Starr style.” A pair of boots “similar to those worn by musician Alycia Starr.” Jenna stared at a listing for a silver ring—the same one Alycia had lost in a lake when they were twenty-two. The seller had no idea. They just wanted $18.99 plus shipping. Jenna watched it three times
Maps showed nothing. No recent location. No check-ins. Just an old pin at an apartment they’d shared on North Sycamore. The street view showed a different couch on the porch now.
She sat in the dark for a long time, listening to the refrigerator hum. Then she opened the search again. Not for Alycia this time. She typed:
No results found.
