Marie sat alone at a small table outside the quaint café, her camera laid open on the checkered tablecloth in front of her. She stared at the viewfinder, her mind elsewhere, troubled by the unsettling events that had transpired the night before. A chill ran down her spine as she recalled the eerie shadows flitting about in the alleyway behind the local bookshop. Footsteps approached. She looked up to see a tall, rugged-looking man in his mid-thirties standing over her. He wore a serious expression and a badge on his belt that read "Detective." "Excuse me, miss. Are you a resident here?" he asked. Marie blinked, confused by the stranger's English. "Pardon?" She shook her head and replied in French, "Je suis désolée, monsieur, mais je ne parle pas anglais." The detective's brow furrowed. "I don't understand," he said. "Do you speak any English at all?" Marie sighed. "Non, désolée. Je suis étudiante en échange et je viens de France. Je ne connais pas l'anglais pour l'instant." The man looked flummoxed. After a long pause, he said, "Well, I need to ask you some questions. There's been a string of disappearances in Alborn. Were you out anywhere last night?" Marie's eyes widened. "Disparitions? Mais oui! J'étais à l'arrière du magasin de livres hier soir. J'ai vu des choses bizarres et effrayantes. J'ai pensé que c'était juste mon imagination, mais maintenant..." She trailed off as the detective's phone rang. He glanced at the screen and muttered, "Damn it," before answering. "Detective Hunter." He listened for a minute, his expression growing more grim by the second. "Alright, I'm on my way. Try to keep the area secure." He hung up and turned back to Marie. "Look, I have to run. But I need to ask you more about what you saw. Can you meet me at the police station in an hour?" Marie nodded. "Oui, d'accord. Je serais là dans une heure." Hunter nodded back. "Thank you, miss...?" "Marie," she replied, still speaking French. "Je m'appelle Marie." The detective tipped his head. "I'll