Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY7RGKV632E9M7X98H3TS3P

**Voice Sheet: Selvi & Hunter at Alborn Cafe** **Selvi**: *(Sitting at a corner table, knees pulled to her chest, camera resting on the table; she’s staring at a photo on its screen, fingers tracing the edge of the frame. Her shoulders are hunched, voice tight when she speaks, halting Hindi with a quiver.)* Woh... woh ajeeb baatein. Tumhe woh pata hai? Un logon ke ghar se nikalne nahi dete, unki beti... unki beti kaise? **Hunter**: *(Standing over her, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, brow furrowed. He’s got a no-nonsense tone, but polite.)* Pardon? Ma’am, you okay? You speaking to yourself? I, uh—working a case. Missing persons. Seen anything here lately? A stranger? A car? **Selvi**: *(Jolts, camera clattering slightly. She looks up, eyes wide, and repeats, slower, more stressed, but still in Hindi.)* Unki beti. Maine unki maa ki photo click ki thi. 7 baje raat mein, ghar ke niche. Phir subah, police aayi. Unki beti nahi thi. Ghar mein sirf maa reh gayi. **Hunter**: *(Blinks, takes a step back. He holds up both hands, frantic.)* Sorry. I don’t—*Hindi*. I don’t speak the language. Can you... try English? Please. **Selvi**: *(Her face falls, a mix of surprise and frustration. She gestures wildly at the camera, pointing to the photo, then to the door.)* *Uske liye*. *Uske liye* kuch karo. Maine unki car dekhayi. White gaadi. Pink gloves. Uske paas pink gloves thi. Maine click ki thi. *Uski beti...* *(Her voice breaks; she presses a hand to her mouth, looking away.)* **Hunter**: *(Leans forward, squinting at the photo—he still doesn’t recognize the woman, but he nods.)* White car, pink gloves. Got it. That’s... helpful. What else? Did you see who was driving? **Selvi**: *(Shakes her head, tears welling. She fumbles in her bag, pulls out a crumpled napkin, and scribbles a rough sketch with a pen she finds on the table: a car, two gloved hands reaching inside.)* Ek aadmi. Chotta aadmi. Muffler pehena tha. Chehra nahi dikha. **Hunter**: *(Takes the napkin, studies the sketch. His radio crackles sharply. He curses under his breath, fumbles for it.)* This is Hunter, Alborn PD. Yeah, dispatch—*now*.... *(He listens, jaw tightening. To Selvi, he says, quick and apologetic.)* I gotta go. Look, can you wait? I’ll get someone who—who speaks Hindi. Maybe translate. Stay put, okay? **Selvi**: *(Nods, sniffling, staring at her sketch. She mutters in Hindi, too quiet for him to catch: “*Kya karoon? Maine sirf photo li hai.*” (What can I do? I only took a photo.)* **Hunter**: *(Grabs his coat, pauses at the door, then turns.)* Thanks. This helps. *(He hurries out; the bell above the door jingles. Selvi watches him go, clutches her camera to her chest, and buries her face in the photo.)* *[End Scene.]*