Run: 2026-03-03-01KJTZAE4HRWS2M0PF7V91J164

### Scene Setup Set at Sunny Side Café, a cozy wood-paneled spot in downtown Alborn, MN — the air smells like cinnamon apple scones, and a handwritten poster for the town’s annual Apple Festival tacks to the bulletin board. Marie, 30, hunches at a corner table, her weathered DSLR propped before her, fixated on a photo of distraught local baker Mabel Hale. Hunter, 35, ex-marine turned detective, wears a scuffed khaki windbreaker and carries a police notebook, making his way over to her table. --- ### Voice Sheet Dialogue Hunter: Excuse me, miss. I’m Detective Hunter with the Alborn Police Department. I’m investigating the disappearance of Mabel Hale—did you spot anything out of the ordinary along the river trail or downtown last week? Marie: (voice cracking, trembling slightly as her eyes flick back to her camera, speaking rapid, worried, accented French) Mon Dieu… J’ai pris cette photo d’elle deux jours avant qu’elle ne disparaisse. Il était là, derrière elle. Un homme, grand, avec une barbe et un manteau noir. Elle pleurait, elle disait qu’on la suivait. Je n’ai pas cru à elle tout de suite… Hunter: (blinks in total confusion, hands lifting in a helpless shrug, speaking slowly in plain English) I’m sorry, I don’t understand any French. Can you speak English? Marie: (freezes, then fumbles in her crossbody bag for her smartphone, pulls up a French-to-English translation app, holds the screen up to Hunter, continuing in shaky French) Désolée… Je ne parle pas anglais du tout. Cette application va traduire ce que je dis. Il a disparu dans la forêt près de la rivière. J’ai eu peur de ne rien dire à la police, je me sens tellement idiote. Hunter: (leans in to squint at the phone’s screen as the app vocalizes her words) Alright, okay, I follow now. So you saw a bearded man in a black coat follow Ms. Hale into the woods? Did you get a clear look at him? Marie: (nods rapidly, tapping her camera screen to pull up the photo of Hale and the shadowy, out-of-focus figure behind her) Oui. Mais son chapeau a caché son visage. Je n’ai pas vu son visage. Mais il portait un grand sac à dos de camping. Hunter: (jots notes rapidly in his notebook, brow furrowed in focus) Camping backpack. Got it. Did you see which way he headed after he went into the trees? Marie: (points out the cafe window toward the western tree line) Vers le lac Silver. Personne ne va là sauf les chasseurs en automne. Hunter: (tucks his notebook away, checking his wristwatch) Alright, thank you so much for this, Marie. I’ll dispatch a patrol to check Silver Lake trailhead immediately. If you remember anything else, the non-emergency line is posted on the front door. Marie: (nods, picking up her camera to cradle it against her chest, voice quiet through the app’s translation) Merci. J’espère que vous trouverez Mabel saine et sauve. Hunter: (pats her shoulder gently before pulling out his cell phone) I hope so too. Listen, I just got a call— Hunter: (answers the call, tone shifting instantly to no-nonsense detective mode) Detective Hunter here… Copy that, I’m en route now. Hunter: (hangs up, turning back to Marie) Looks like I’ve got to head out on a priority call. Thanks again for your help, stay safe out there. Marie: (waves weakly, her gaze drifting back to her camera photo of Mabel Hale) Au revoir. Hunter: (steps out of the cafe, the door jingling behind him)