## Scene: Small-Town Cafe The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and apple pie hung heavy in the air of the cozy cafe. Selvi, perched at a small table by the window, cradled her camera in her hands. The lens caught the warm afternoon sunlight streaming through the glass, reflecting back a kaleidoscope of colours. Her brow furrowed slightly, not in concentration at the image before her, but rather on a troubling thought. Footsteps approached, halting beside her table. A tall silhouette loomed, momentarily blocking the light. "Ma'am," a deep voice rumbled, "Excuse me. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" Selvi lifted her head, blinking in surprise. The man was clearly an authoritative figure - broad-shouldered, with close-cropped hair and piercing blue eyes. She struggled for a moment, then shook her head, her expression apologetic. "Mujhe maaf karna, main angrezi nahin jaanti," she said, her voice soft but earnest. Hunter frowned, perplexed. "I... don't understand," he admitted, unsure how to proceed. He tried pointing at her camera. "You take pictures?" he asked, hoping she'd figure it out. He saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes, but the melodious fluidity of her response did nothing to bridge the language barrier. "Kuchh sachcha hua, bahut hi बुरा," she said, her voice laced with distress, gesturing vaguely outside. Hunter's brow furrowed. He knew something bad had happened, that much was clear. He tried to speak again, slower this time. "Was it about... the disappearances?" he said, carefully enunciating each word. Her eyes widened, and she gave a small nod, a tremor running through her frame. "The... the man? With the red... hat?" he continued, trying to recall details of the last disappearance. She pointed a trembling finger towards the entrance, her eyes filled with fear. A shudder racked her body and she whispered again, her voice barely audible. "Laal topi..." Before Hunter could question further, his phone buzzed, a shrill ring cutting through the cafe's ambiance. He cursed under his breath, glancing at the insistent screen. "Duty calls," he said to Selvi, feeling a pang of guilt at leaving her with so many unanswered questions. "I'll try to find someone who speaks Hindi. Maybe tomorrow, alright?" He scribbled his number on a piece of paper, pushing it towards her. Selvi hesitated before taking it, a troubled look etched on her face. She needed to tell him something, but her words seemed deserted her. Hunter gave her a reassuring nod. "It'll be okay," he said, hoping the sentiment transcended the language barrier. As he turned to leave, Selvi looked at the piece of paper in her hand, then back to the door through which he disappeared. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of terror and helplessness. She didn’t know this town, she didn’t speak the language. Nearly a thousand kilometers away from home, she was determined to do something, to say something, but didn’t know where to start. ## Voice Sheet **Selvi:** * Mujhe maaf karna, main angrezi nahin jaanti. * Kuchh sachcha hua, bahut hi बुरा. * Laal topi... **Hunter:** * Excuse me. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? * I... don't understand. * You take pictures? * Was it about... the disappearances? * The... the man? With the red... hat? * Duty calls. I'll try to find someone who speaks Hindi. Maybe tomorrow, alright? * It'll be okay.