Run: 2025-11-18-01KACP363Y09C36WSAEBHFQ6S0

## Voice Sheet: A Confused Encounter **Setting:** A cozy cafe in Alborn, MN. Melanie is at a small table near the window, a steaming mug beside her. Her camera is on the table, and she's scrolling through images of rolling orchards. --- **Hunter:** "Excuse me, miss?" **Melanie:** (Looks up, startled. Her eyes are a striking blue.) "Entschuldigung?" (Her German accent is thick, melodic.) **Hunter:** "I'm Detective Hunter. I'm investigating a couple of… disappearances in town. Were you around the old mill last Tuesday, by any chance?" **Melanie:** (Her brow furrows, and she flinches slightly at the mention of the mill. She shakes her head slowly, her expression troubled. Her gaze flickers past Hunter, as if seeing something unsettling.) "Die alte Mühle? Nein. Ich… ich verstehe nicht viel. Es war… es war schrecklich. Ich habe nur die Gerüchte gehört. Eine junge Frau… verschwunden. Es ist beunruhigend. Die Leute sind verängstigt." (Her voice is hushed, a tremor running through the German words.) **Hunter:** (Looks utterly lost. He rubs the back of his neck, his no-nonsense demeanor momentarily faltering. He tries a few gestures, pointing vaguely and then back to Melanie.) "The mill... last Tuesday? Did you see anyone? Anything out of the ordinary?" **Melanie:** (Mistaking his gestures for an inability to understand her direct answer, she tries again, her hands fluttering dismissively, then pressing briefly to her chest.) "Nein, nein. Ich war nicht da. Das sage ich. Ich war nicht dort. Aber die Geschichten… sie sind überall. Es ist wie ein Schatten über der Stadt. Das Apfelfest… es wird nicht dasselbe sein." (Her eyes are wide, reflecting a genuine tremor of fear.) **Hunter:** (Sighs, frustrated. He pulls out a small notepad, then looks at Melanie again, hoping context will help.) "Look, I need to know if you witnessed anything. Did you photograph anything unusual near the mill? Or outside of town, maybe?" **Melanie:** (Her gaze drops to her camera, then back to Hunter, a flicker of understanding in her eyes about the photography, but still not the full gist of his inquiry. She opens her mouth to speak when her phone buzzes loudly in her pocket.) **Hunter:** (His phone rings, a sharp, urgent tone that cuts through the cafe's quiet hum. He glances at the screen, his expression tightening.) "I'm sorry, I have to take this." (He holds up a hand, a silent apology, and steps away from the table, already speaking into the phone in rapid, clipped tones.) **Melanie:** (Watches him go, a sense of lingering worry on her face. She looks back at her camera, then out the window at the peaceful Alborn street, a stark contrast to the troubling words she'd just spoken.)