Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXQC1HYQ53NXXKCJ2TSY85S

**Voice Sheet: Café Conversation in Alborn, MN** *(Marie sits at a small wrought-iron table outside the café, her fingers tracing the edges of her camera. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the cobblestone street. Hunter approaches, his boots scuffing lightly against the pavement. He adjusts his jacket, his expression serious but not unkind.)* **Hunter:** *(clears throat, speaking slowly and clearly, as if volume alone might bridge the language gap)* Excuse me, miss. I’m Detective Hunter. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the… recent events in town. **Marie:** *(looks up sharply, her dark eyes wide. She clutches her camera tighter, her knuckles whitening. Her voice is soft but urgent, the words tumbling out in rapid French)* Oh, mon Dieu… Vous êtes de la police ? Je… je ne sais pas quoi dire. J’ai vu quelque chose, mais je ne comprends pas. Les gens disparaissent, n’est-ce pas ? *(She shakes her head, her breath hitching.)* C’est comme un cauchemar. Hier soir, près de la vieille grange—j’y étais pour prendre des photos du coucher de soleil. Et puis… *(she swallows hard, her voice dropping to a whisper)* j’ai entendu des bruits. Comme des pas, mais trop lourds. Et puis plus rien. Juste… le silence. **Hunter:** *(frowns, rubbing the back of his neck. He catches the words "police" and "disparaissent," but the rest is lost on him. He tries again, gesturing vaguely toward the street.)* Uh… you saw something? Near the old barn? *(He points in the general direction of the outskirts of town.)* Can you… show me? On a map, maybe? **Marie:** *(shakes her head, frustrated. She flips open her camera and scrolls through the photos, then turns the screen toward him. The images are beautiful—golden fields, a crimson sunset, the skeletal frame of the old barn. But then she stops on one: a dark shape in the distance, barely more than a smudge against the trees. She points at it, her finger trembling.)* Là. Je ne sais pas ce que c’est. Mais après ça, j’ai couru. *(She mimes running, then hugs herself, her shoulders tense.)* Je ne veux pas y retourner. **Hunter:** *(studies the photo, his jaw tightening. He doesn’t understand her words, but the fear in her voice is unmistakable. He pulls out his notepad and sketches a quick map of the area, pointing to the barn and then to her.)* You were here? *(He taps the barn on the map.)* And you saw… *(he gestures at the photo, then shrugs helplessly, miming confusion.)* Something? **Marie:** *(nods vigorously, then sighs, switching to halting, heavily accented English—her first attempt at the language.)* Oui. Yes. I… see… *(she struggles for the word, then points at the photo again)* shadow. Big. Not… personne. *(She shakes her head, frustrated with herself.)* Not person. **Hunter:** *(blinks, surprised by the English. He leans in slightly, as if proximity might help.)* A shadow? Like… a person? Or— *(His phone rings abruptly, cutting him off. He glances at the screen, his expression darkening. He holds up a finger to Marie.)* Sorry, I gotta take this. *(He steps away, answering the call in a low voice.)* Hunter. **Marie:** *(watches him go, her fingers tightening around her camera again. She exhales shakily, murmuring to herself in French.)* Qu’est-ce qui se passe dans cette ville ? *(Hunter ends the call and turns back to her, his expression grim. He pockets his phone and gives her an apologetic nod.)* **Hunter:** I’ve gotta go. But… *(he hesitates, then pulls a business card from his wallet and hands it to her. He points to the number, then to her.)* If you remember anything else—anything at all—call me. *(He mimes holding a phone to his ear.)* Okay? **Marie:** *(takes the card, studying it. She nods, then offers a small, uncertain smile.)* Merci. Thank you. **Hunter:** *(gives her a curt nod, then turns to leave, his stride quickening as he heads toward his car. Marie watches him go, then looks down at the photo on her camera again, her brow furrowed.)* *(Fade out.)*