Here is the scene: Marie sat at a small café, her camera resting on the table in front of her. She stared at it, her brow furrowed in concern. Hunter, the detective, approached her table and cleared his throat to get her attention. "Can I help you?" Marie asked, looking up at him warily. "Not at all, you're... Marie, I think?" Hunter said, checking the name tag on her camera equipment. "I wanted to ask you about the festival earlier today. The apple festival. Did you happen to see or hear anything unusual?" Marie's eyes widened, and she shook her head. "Oui... oh mon dieu," she whispered, her voice trembling. Hunter looked at her curiously. "What's wrong?" "No... no, it's just... fiancé. Jonnanti. Mon ami..." Marie's words tumbled out in rapid French. Hunter's face remained blank. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that? I don't speak French." Marie's eyes clouded over, and she spoke again, her voice laced with distress. "Mon ami... disparu..." Hunter's expression remained puzzled. "I don't... sorry. Could you write it down for me?" Marie's hands balled into fists, and she pushed her chair back. "Fiancé Jonnanti. Mon ami. Disparu depuis hier soir." Hunter remained look puzzled, his eyes darting between Marie's face and the camera equipment. "I'm going to need to take this down. Can I get your contact information?" Marie scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to him. Hunter tucked it into his pocket and stood to leave. "I'll... I'll let you know if anything comes up," he said, looking at her with a tone of politeness but no understanding. Marie's eyes followed him as he left the café. She slumped back in her chair, looking worried and troubled.<|im_end|>