Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYB1RQ2GSVAD6NQJ0DSN0BN

**INT. MAPLE STREET CAFE - AFTERNOON** Marie sits at a corner table, her camera propped beside her. She traces the lens with a trembling finger, eyes fixed on a half-printed photo of Alborn’s town square. The door chimes; Hunter pauses in the doorway, scanning the room. His gaze locks onto her—*the* foreign student—and he strides over, hands in the pockets of his worn trench coat. **Hunter:** (soft, cautious) Evening. You must be Marie. From the study abroad program? Marie looks up, startled. Her cheeks flush. She nods once, and a faint, fragile smile tugs at her lips. **Marie:** (weak, accented English) Oui. H-hello. Hunter notices the camera, his brow lifting. **Hunter:** You here often? Seems quiet. **Marie:** (glancing at the photo, then back) Oui. Chaud. (Hot.) She strokes the camera, but her focus drifts—*nervous*, not calm. **Hunter:** (leaning in, serious now) Listen. I need to ask you something. Since you’ve been here… been around town. Seen anything off? Someone acting strange? Marie’s eyes widen. She shakes her head, but her lower lip quivers. Her hand flies to her throat, as if she’s trying to swallow air. **Marie:** (quick, broken English, then slower, troubled, in French) Non. Non… *récent*. Someone. (No. No… *recent*. Someone.) Hunter blinks. He doesn’t recognize the French, but the tone—*alarmed*—stops him mid-question. **Hunter:** Wait—you speak French? Marie nods, vulnerable. She points to her camera, then turns the display so he can see: a blurry shot of the square, but a figure in a hood stands partially visible in the background. **Marie:** (urgent, accented English) Là. (There.) Hier. (Yesterday.) L’homme. (The man.) Parano. (Paranoid.) Il regarde. (He stares.) Hunter leans closer, frowning. **Hunter:** Whoa—calm down. You said “yesterday”? A man? What did he *look* like? Marie fumbles with her bag, pulling out a crumpled notepad. She scribbles furiously in French, then slides it over. The sketch is rough: a scar above a left eye, a dark coat, a cap pulled low over a face. **Marie:** (softly, in English) Il regarde. Toujours. (He stares. Always.) Hunter reads the sketch, then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He checks it, curses under his breath, and silences it. **Hunter:** Chief—*Goddammit*. Another disappearance. I gotta go. He hesitates, then kneels slightly to meet her eyes. **Hunter:** But if you remember *anything*—even a fragment—come to the station. I’ll have a translator. (Pauses, softer) You sure you’re okay? Marie nods, but her hands are still shaking. She clutches the camera to her chest, as if it’s a shield. **Marie:** (whispering, in French) Merci. (Thank you.) Hunter stands, straightens his coat, and nods once. He turns, but pauses at the door. **Hunter:** Stay safe, Marie. Lock your door. The door chimes. He exits. Marie watches him go, then meets her own eyes in the camera’s display. The hooded figure is clearer now—*smiling*. She takes a deep breath, tucks the camera under her arm, and follows. **Marie:** “…” (She mutters in French, too quiet for Hunter to hear. “Il reverra. Jamais.”) **Hunter:** “…I’ll have a translator.” (To himself, before answering his phone.) **Marie:** … (Silent, determined, as she leaves the cafe.) **Hunter:** … (Into phone) “Chief, where? I’m on my way.” *[END SCENE.]* This voice sheet captures the language barrier, Hunter’s urgency, and Marie’s troubled state, while adhering to their character traits.