**Voice Sheet – Scene: Café in Alborn, MN** *Interior of a quiet, rustic café in downtown Alborn. Fall sunlight filters through the window. MARIE sits alone at a corner table, flipping through photos on her camera. She looks concerned. HUNTER enters, badge subtly visible, and approaches her with a calm but authoritative presence.* --- **Hunter:** Excuse me, miss. You were near the old Miller barn last night, weren’t you? Around nine? We had a… situation out there. Missing person. You might’ve seen something. **Marie:** *(Looking up, startled. She speaks quickly, her voice trembling in French.)* Quoi ? Je ne comprends pas… Je ne parle pas anglais. J’étais… j’étais là-bas, oui, mais j’ai vu… quelque chose. Quelque chose de bizarre. Une lumière, puis… plus rien. Et la porte… elle s’est refermée toute seule ! Je… je n’ai rien fait, je le jure ! **Hunter:** *(Frowning, taking a step back, clearly not understanding. Tries again, slower and louder.)* Uh… did you… see anything *strange* last night? Lights? Movement? Sound? **Marie:** *(More distressed now, gesturing with her hands and camera. Still in French.)* Je prends des photos de paysages, c’est tout ! Je ne veux pas d’ennuis ! Mais cette lumière… bleue, comme un feu follet… Et cet homme… ou… ce n’était pas un homme. Pas vraiment. **Hunter:** *(Shakes his head slightly, rubs the bridge of his nose. Switches to a firmer tone, more cop-like.)* Ma’am, I need you to slow down. I don’t… I don’t speak French. Can you—do you know anyone who can help translate? **Marie:** *(Frustrated, pointing at her camera.)* Regardez les photos ! Il y a quelque chose… là, entre les arbres. Vous devez les voir ! **Hunter:** *(Leans in, squints at the camera screen, sees a blur of blue light near the tree line, foggy but unusual. Frowns.)* Huh. That’s… not natural. That wasn’t streetlight. Where was this? **Marie:** *(Trying to point on the screen. In French.)* Derrière la grange. J’ai entendu un bruit… comme un cri… mais étouffé. **Hunter:** *(Muttering.)* Behind the barn… that’s where Weaver went missing. You heard a *cry*? **Marie:** *(Nods frantically, switching to broken English.)* Yes. A cry. Muffled. And fear… I felt fear. In the air. Like… *(Struggling for word)*… shadow of fear. **Hunter:** *(Eyes narrow, processing.)* Shadow of fear? You a psychic or something? **Marie:** *(Shakes head, voice shaking.)* Non. Just… sensitive. And the camera sees what eyes miss. *(Suddenly, HUNTER’S phone rings sharply. He glances at it, answers.)* **Hunter:** Hunter. *(Listens. His expression sours. Tense silence.)* Weaver’s truck just turned up on County 12. Abandoned. Keys in the ignition. Blood on the seat. *(Pause. Listens.)* No, no sign of him. And the GPS… it cut out in *exactly* the same spot she was shooting. *(Looks at MARIE, eyes searching her face.)* Yeah. I’m still at the café. I’ll head out in two. *(Hangs up. Turns back to Marie, tone softer but urgent.)* Stay here. Don’t leave town. This is serious. I’ll get someone who speaks French to come talk to you. *Do not* go back to that barn. **Marie:** *(Whispers in French, watching him leave.)* Il ne comprend pas… mais il sent la vérité. Comme moi. *(Hunter exits the café, the door jingling behind him. Marie clutches her camera tightly, gaze fixed on the photo of the blue light.)* --- **END SCENE**