The morning mist still clung to the windows of Alborn’s only coffee shop, the scent of cinnamon rolls hanging heavy in the air. Maria sat at a corner table, her fingers trembling slightly as she toggled through the digital display of her Nikon. She paused on a blurred image—dark shapes shifting through the orchard trees near the edge of town. Detective Hunter approached, his heavy boots thumping against the floorboards. He looked exhausted, his broad shoulders tense beneath a flannel jacket that did little to hide his military-straight posture. He slid a grainy photograph of a missing local onto her table. **Voice Sheet** Hunter: "Excuse me, ma’am. I’m Detective Hunter. I saw you out by the old Miller farm yesterday with that camera. I need to know if you saw this man near the apple storage sheds." Maria: "¡Oh! Señor... me asustó. No entiendo lo que dice, pero... esa granja... algo anda muy mal en ese lugar." Hunter: "Slow down. I’m not following. English? Do you speak any English? I just need to know about the man. Tall, beard, green jacket. Did you see him?" Maria: "Vi algo, sí. Pero no era un hombre. Eran sombras... sombras que se movían entre los árboles. Intenté tomar una foto, pero mi mano temblaba mucho. Tengo mucho miedo de volver allí." Hunter: "Look, I don't know what 'sombras' means, but you look shaken up. Did someone hurt you? Did you see a struggle? Just point to the direction you were facing." Maria: "Mire la pantalla, por favor. Mire esto. Hay algo escondido en el huerto. La gente está desapareciendo porque hay algo en el bosque que no debería estar aquí. ¡Es una pesadilla!" Hunter: "Dammit. I need a translator. Listen, stay right here. Don't go back to the orchards. It’s not safe for a tourist to be wandering around solo right now." Maria: "No puedo dejar de pensar en los gritos que escuché. Fue un sonido horrible, como si el viento estuviera sufriendo. Por favor, tiene que ayudar a esas personas." Hunter: "I... I think you're trying to tell me something important, but we're hitting a wall here. Hold that thought, I'll get someone from the station on the—" [Hunter’s radio crackles loudly, followed by his phone buzzing on the table.] Hunter: "Hunter here. What? Another one? The North Ridge trail? I’m five minutes out. Secure the perimeter and don't let the press near the treeline." Maria: "¿Se va? ¡No! ¡Tiene que mirar las fotos! ¡Es peligroso!" Hunter: "I have to go. Duty calls. Just... stay in the cafe, okay? Keep your head down. I'll find you later."