Here's the scene written as a voice sheet, capturing the cozy mystery tone and the details provided: **Voice Sheet** **Scene:** Sunny afternoon at The Apple Blossom Bistro in Alborn, MN. Marie is at an outdoor table, meticulously reviewing photos on her camera. **Marie:** (Soft muttering to herself in French, eyes fixed on the camera screen.) "Ah, cette lumière… parfait. Les teintes de rouge sont superbes sur les vergers." *(Ah, this light… perfect. The red hues are superb on the orchards.)* **Hunter:** (Approaching the table, a slight frown on his face. His voice is firm but not aggressive.) "Excuse me, miss? Mind if I bother you for a moment?" **Marie:** (Looks up, startled by the sudden voice. She blinks, her expression polite but uncomprehending. She gives a small, apologetic smile.) "Pardon? Je… je ne comprends pas." *(Pardon? I… I don't understand.)* **Hunter:** (A beat of confusion crosses his face. He tries again, speaking a little slower.) "I'm Detective Hunter. I'm investigating some… recent events. I was wondering if you might have seen anything out of the ordinary around town lately? Especially near the old mill pond?" **Marie:** (Her smile falters. The mention of the mill pond, even without understanding, seems to trigger something. Her eyes widen slightly, and she clutches her camera a little tighter. Her voice is low, shaky, an undercurrent of genuine distress.) "Oh! Le moulin… oui. C'est… c'est terrible. J'y étais hier. J'ai vu… J'ai vu le vide. Le silence. Où sont-ils tous allés? C'est comme s'ils s'étaient évaporés. J'ai peur, monsieur. Vraiment, j'ai très peur." *(Oh! The mill… yes. It's… it's terrible. I was there yesterday. I saw… I saw the emptiness. The silence. Where have they all gone? It's as if they evaporated. I'm afraid, sir. Truly, I am very afraid.)* **Hunter:** (Stares at her, utterly lost. He rubs the back of his neck, frustration warring with a flicker of concern. He can tell she’s distressed, but the words are gibberish.) "Right. Okay. Uh… 'terrible'? That's what it sounded like. You saw… something then? Near the mill pond? Can you… point? Or maybe… write it down?" **Marie:** (Shakes her head, her brow furrowed with concern. She gestures vaguely towards the direction of the mill pond, her hands trembling slightly.) "Oui, oui. Le sentiment… si étrange. Je prenais des photos des joncs, et… et il n'y avait personne. Jamais personne là-bas d'habitude, mais… mais pas une trace. Et ce vent… froid." *(Yes, yes. The feeling… so strange. I was taking photos of the reeds, and… and there was no one. Never anyone there usually, but… but not a trace. And the wind… cold.)* **Hunter:** (He sighs, running a hand over his short hair. He really needs a translator. He tries to slow down, enunciate.) "No trace? Of… what? Did you see anyone *leave* the area? Or maybe… a car? Anything unusual at all that you could describe?" **Marie:** (Looks at him, bewildered by the rapid-fire English. She picks up on a couple of words – "car," "unusual" – and tries to connect them to her experience, but the nuance is lost. She shakes her head again, more emphatically this time.) "Non, monsieur. Rien. Personne. Seulement les ombres. Et cette sensation… d'être observée. C'est ça qui m'a glacée le sang. Je suis partie vite." *(No, sir. Nothing. Nobody. Only shadows. And this feeling… of being watched. That's what chilled my blood. I left quickly.)* **Hunter:** (His phone vibrates loudly. He glances at it, then back at Marie, a fresh wave of exasperation crossing his face. This conversation is going nowhere fast, but her distress feels genuine. He holds up a finger, then answers the phone, moving a step away.) "Hunter." (He listens, his expression hardening. He mouths, "I gotta go," to Marie.) "Alright, I'm on my way. Be there in five." **Hunter:** (Hangs up, pockets his phone with a curt motion. He turns back to Marie, an apologetic grimace on his face.) "Look, I’m really sorry about this. I've got to go. Something just came up. But… if you think of anything, anything at all, or if you manage to find someone who can translate… here." (He pulls out a plain business card and sets it on the table.) "My number. Please call." **Marie:** (Watches him, her expression shifting from troubled to a slight understanding of his hurried departure. She nods slowly, then looks down at the card, picking it up. Her voice is soft and uncertain.) "Le numéro… D-Détective Hunter? Je vais… je vais essayer. Mais je ne comprends toujours pas." *(The number… D-Detective Hunter? I will… I will try. But I still don't understand.)* **Hunter:** (Gives a quick, almost imperceptible nod, then turns and strides away, leaving Marie sitting alone, the card in her hand, her camera a silent witness to her unease.) "Thanks."