The outdoor patio of the Sycamore Cafe was bustling with activity, but Marie sat alone at a small table, gazing down at the images on her digital camera's screen. The worried furrow in her brow deepened as she flipped through the photos she had taken the night before at the Alborn town square. What she had witnessed there was beyond troubling. Marie jerked in her seat when a voice suddenly spoke right next to her. "Excuse me miss, are you new in town? I'm Detective Hunter Struthers with the Alborn Sheriff's Department. Could I ask you a few questions about something you may have seen last night?" She looked up to see a ruggedly handsome man standing over her, his face etched with concern. "Je suis desole, je ne comprends pas l'anglais," she replied, wishing she understood more than the few broken English phrases she knew. "Je ne sais pas ce que vous voulez dire." Hunter cocked his head, still eyeing her intently. "Treatment and decompensation from five-wheeled cargo containers on rolled steel?" he tried, in an obvious act of a wild guess. Marie blinked at him, completely baffled. "...France...in Alborn...student...here on exchange program..." Marie ventured, indicating her camera. "Photography? Cherchez photos...?" The detective pulled out his notepad and wrote something down. "Okay, slow down. You're a student from France. You were at the town square last night taking photos. Right?" Marie nodded eagerly. "Oui, photos! Je les ai ici." She unclipped her camera and began scrolling through the images again. The detective took a seat across from her and leaned in to look at the screen. When Marie reached a particular picture, Hunter suddenly grabbed the camera with a low gasp. "Holy shit." Marie watched, alarmed, as Hunter zoomed in, his eyes widening with growing urgency. "CallDispatch! Requesting backup Unit10 to Main Street! Retrieve film from a panicked European female, repeat: Retrieve film!" Marie backed away from the table, shaking her head adamantly. "Non non non! Je ne comprends pas! Seen nothing bad! Tu me faut de l'aide!" Hunter turned to her, hand outstretched. "Ma'am, it's the best way. You don't want to be a part of this. Give me that film, I'll handle it!" He glanced back down at the alarming image again and scowled. "Hell, on second thought... leave. Get out of town. Forget everything you saw last night." Marie frantically packed up her things, nearly knocking over her untouched tea, as Hunter spoke urgently into his radio. "...A light-skinned female in a red shirt, fair hair. She's armed and dangerous...! I repeat: Take the perpetrator into protective custody at once!" As Hunter ran for his car, mud staining his shoes, tires screeching, Marie stood frozen, clutching her camera and shaking. Her first day in Alborn had turned into a nightmare. All she wanted now was to get back to the safe familiarity of the school, surrounded by her classmates. At least until the police sorted this out. What exactly had she captured on film, to provokethat reaction? She knew she needed to leave town, but this wasn't how she had imagined spending her study abroad semester in America...