Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXPXBMY806YVCG1XNA0D3RK

**Voice Sheet: Café Conversation in Alborn, MN** *(Maria sits at a small wrought-iron table outside the café, her camera resting in her lap. She flips through the photos she’s taken, her brow furrowed. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the quiet street. Hunter approaches, his boots scuffing lightly against the pavement. He hesitates before pulling out the chair across from her.)* **Hunter:** *(clears throat, polite but firm)* Excuse me, miss. Mind if I sit for a minute? **Maria:** *(startled, looks up, then relaxes slightly when she sees his badge clipped to his belt. She nods, gesturing to the chair. In Spanish, her voice tight with unease)* Sí, por supuesto. ¿En qué puedo ayudarle? **Hunter:** *(sits, frowning slightly at her words. He leans forward, elbows on the table)* Uh… I’m Detective Hunter. I’m looking into some… unusual activity around town. You’ve been here a few days, right? **Maria:** *(nods quickly, gripping her camera strap. In Spanish, her words tumble out)* Sí, sí, desde el lunes. Pero algo está mal aquí. Anoche, escuché gritos cerca del bosque. Y hoy, vi a un hombre—no, dos hombres—llevando algo grande hacia un camión. *(shakes her head, eyes wide)* No sé qué era, pero no era normal. **Hunter:** *(blinks, then rubs his temple. He tries to pick out familiar words, but fails. He gestures vaguely toward her camera)* You… take pictures, right? Did you get any of that on your camera? **Maria:** *(nods again, flipping the camera around to show him the screen. She points at a blurry shot of the tree line, then another of a dark van. In Spanish, her voice rises with frustration)* ¡Mire! Aquí, y aquí. No sé qué es, pero no es seguro. Y la gente aquí… *(waves a hand)* No hablan conmigo. Como si tuvieran miedo. **Hunter:** *(sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He tries again, slower)* Okay. Let’s try this. You saw… *(mimes driving a van, then points at the photo)* This? And heard… *(mimes a scream)* Last night? **Maria:** *(nods emphatically, then pauses. She mimics taking a photo, then points at him, then at the camera. In Spanish, hopeful)* ¿Quiere ver las fotos? ¿Puede ayudarme? **Hunter:** *(hesitates, then nods. He takes the camera, squinting at the images. His phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it at first, but it buzzes again—insistent. He exhales sharply, handing the camera back.)* Look, I gotta take this. But… *(points at her, then at the camera, then at himself)* Stay here. I’ll be back in ten. Don’t go anywhere alone, okay? **Maria:** *(frowns, confused. In Spanish, worried)* ¿Qué? No entiendo. ¿Se va? **Hunter:** *(stands, already pulling out his phone. He holds up a finger—"one minute"—then steps away, answering the call. His voice is low, urgent.)* Hunter. *(Maria watches him go, her fingers tightening around her camera. She glances at the photos again, then at the quiet street, her unease growing.)*