Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYB0JXGXPB2BPK08W8J8XYK

**Voice Sheet: "Cafe Encounter"** *(Melanie sits at a chipped wooden table at *Mabel’s Mug*, a small town cafe. A black camera rests in front of her, its lens reflecting the afternoon light. She’s staring at the camera, fingers brushing the leather case—her brow is furrowed, and her lower lip trembles slightly. A bell jingles; Hunter leans in the doorway, shoulders broad, a weathered detective’s coat slung over one arm. He pauses, eyeing her.)* **Hunter:** (gruff, but not unkind) New face in town? You here for the apple festival or…? *(Melanie flinches, her head snapping up. Her English is halting, accented—she’s trying, but it’s tentative. She leans forward, hands fisting the camera strap, voice tight.)* **Melanie:** (in halting English) Ja… festival. But… but that’s not why I’m here. The *events*. The *disappearances*. ((She swallows, looks away, then forces herself back.)) *English not good. German. Please.* *(Hunter freezes, blinks. He tilts his head, confused. He shrugs, steps closer. Melanie copies his gesture, miming a shrug, but her eyes dart to the door.)* **Hunter:** German, huh? Never picked it up. Sorry. You’re from Germany? *(Melanie nods, nearly jumping. She leans across the table, urgent, hands trembling as she fumbles for words in German—rapid, broken, but raw with emotion.)* **Melanie:** (German) *Es ist Schrecklich.* (It’s terrible.) *Letzte Nacht. Ein Mädchen.* (Last night. A girl.) *Sie hat nicht zu Hause gekommen.* (She didn’t come home.) *Ich habe gesehen… einen Mann.* (I saw… a man.) *In einem Auto.* (In a car.) *Er hat sie*… *gesehen.* (He was watching her.) *(Hunter stares, his expression shifting from confusion to concern. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a small notebook, flips to a new page. He writes: “Witness: German female, college student; seen man watching girl, car?”)* **Hunter:** (softening) Hey, easy. I get it, that’s scary. But you said “last night”? We’ve been investigating these disappearances—three now, over a month. Did this girl look like any of them? Could you describe the car? *(Melanie hesitates, then shakes her head. She opens the camera, shows him a photo—blurred, but it’s the edge of the park, a figure in a blue jacket walking away. She points to the jacket, then mimics “watching” with her hands, slow.)* **Melanie:** (broken English, frantic) *Ja!* That jacket. He… he followed. *Stopped.* Watched. Like a *Hund*. ((Like a dog.)) *(Hunter’s jaw tightens. He stands, grabs his coat, reaches into his belt for a badge. He shows it to her, then pulls out a pen, scribbles a number on a napkin.)* **Hunter:** This is my cell. Call me if you remember anything else—*anything*. The car, the man’s face, the jacket… it all helps. ((He pauses, softens.)) Where you staying? The dorm? *(Melanie nods, eyes wide. She pockets the napkin, clutches her camera tighter.)* **Melanie:** (German, quieter) *Bitte.* Stay safe. ((Please.)) *(Hunter starts to turn, but his radio crackles. He holds up a hand, listens, face hardening.)* **Hunter:** Detective Voss. Alright, I’m on my way. ((To Melanie, apologetic)) Sorry. Another body—by the river. I gotta go. But you call. *Anytime.* *(He hurries out, the bell jangling again. Melanie stays seated, staring at the napkin. She flips open her camera, snaps a photo of the cafe window—blurring out the street. Her lip quivers, and she whispers, half to herself, in German.)* **Melanie:** (softly) *Ich helping.* (I’ll help.) *(Fade out.)*