Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ95DQRJ8XVHBG4QRMRY9FWY

The scent of brewing coffee and cinnamon pastries hung heavy in the air of "The Daily Grind," Alborn's only cafe. Maria, a young woman with dark, expressive eyes, sat by the window, her shoulders hunched over her beloved camera. The LCD screen glowed, reflecting a troubled expression on her face. She was reviewing photos from the previous night, images that held a darker hue than she intended. The bell above the door chimed, announcing a new arrival. Detective Hunter, a man whose no-nonsense demeanor was as ingrained as the creases around his eyes, scanned the small room. His gaze landed on Maria. He approached her table with a steady, purposeful stride. *** **Hunter:** Excuse me, ma'am. Detective Hunter. Sheriff's office here in Alborn. I understand you might have seen something last night near the old logging road? **Maria:** (Looks up, startled. Her eyes widen, and she clutches her camera defensively.) — *¿Perdón? ¿Agente?* **Hunter:** (Slightly confused by her response but presses on, speaking clearly and slowly.) — Yes, detective. Just trying to get some information about what happened out near Miller's Creek. Anything unusual you might have witnessed? Anything at all? **Maria:** (Her brow furrows in distress. She speaks rapidly in Spanish, gesturing vaguely with her hands, her face pale.) — *¡Ay, Dios mío! Sí, vi algo. Yo... estaba en el bosque, intentando tomar unas fotos de las estrellas, la luz de la luna... y de repente escuché un grito. Un grito terrible. Luego, nada. Solo oscuridad y... sombras. Como si algo se moviera muy rápido entre los árboles. Mi corazón... bombeaba tan fuerte. Saqué la cámara, intenté capturar algo, pero solo vi... sombras y la oscuridad.* **Hunter:** (Stares, a look of growing confusion and mild frustration creasing his brow. He doesn't understand a word of her rapid Spanish. He tries to rephrase, speaking slowly and enunciating.) — *Scream? In the woods? Uh... last night? Did you see... a person? Anyone?* **Maria:** (Shakes her head desperately, her eyes starting to well up.) — *No, no vi a nadie. Solo... la sensación. El miedo. No pude... no pude moverme. Saqué todas las fotos que pude, por si...* **Hunter:** (Runs a hand through his hair, pulling out a small notepad and pen, as if hoping visual cues might bridge the gap.) — *Shadows. Fast movement. Okay. Can you show me? On the camera? Anything you photographed? Anything specific?* **Maria:** (Nods eagerly, a flicker of relief flooding her face at the prospect of being understood. She quickly begins to scroll through her camera's display.) — *Sí, sí. Mire. Esto fue justo antes de... la calma. Y luego, después de que escuché...* *Just then, Hunter’s phone rings, a loud, insistent sound that cuts through the cafe's quiet. He pulls it out, his expression immediately shifting to one of grave concern as he reads the screen.* **Hunter:** (Voice tight with urgency) — *Damn it. I have to go. This is... trouble. Look, I can’t right now. My apologies.* (He pockets the phone, his gaze briefly flicking back to Maria, a regretful but determined look in his eyes.) *If you can find someone who speaks Spanish, or if you learn a few English words... bring the camera down to the station. We need whatever you saw.* (He turns and strides briskly out of the cafe, leaving Maria looking confused and alone, her camera still clutched tight in her hands.)