Run: 2026-03-03-01KJTZAKQBNWXYQ3QDST458E2C

## Scene: Applewood Nook Cafe, Alborn, Minnesota The crisp, apple-scented wind of the annual Alborn Apple Festival trickled through the screen door of the town’s only downtown cafe, where Selvi hunched over a corner booth. Her go-to landscape camera sat propped on the scuffed Formica table, its LCD screen glowing with a hazy, underexposed photo she’d snapped at dawn: a shadowy figure yanking Marnie, the town’s part-time bookstore clerk and one of three locals reported missing in six weeks, into the bed of a dented blue pickup. Selvi had been out chasing orchard mist shots when she’d stumbled on the scene, and she’d replayed the split-second gasp she’d heard a dozen times since, her chest tight with unease. A broad shadow fell over her table, and Selvi looked up to find Detective Hunter: 35, sharp-eyed, wearing a faded marine-issue detective jacket, holding a dog-eared police notebook. He nodded at the empty seat across from her, and Selvi, too tired to argue, let him sit. “Detective Hunter, Alborn PD,” he said, his voice gruff and direct, no wasted words. “I’m following up on Marnie Mercer’s disappearance. Locals told me you’ve been shooting photos around the festival grounds all week—did you see anything out of the ordinary the night she went missing?” Selvi blinked, head tilted. Not a single word of his English registered. She waved a hand weakly at his notebook, then tapped her own camera, trying to signal she didn’t understand. But Hunter, noticing the way her knuckles had whitened around her chai mug, pushed the camera closer, nodding firmly at the blurry photo. Selvi took a shaky breath, then began speaking rapidly in trembling, distressed Hindi, gesturing wildly to the screen as she talked. Hunter’s brow furrowed. He’d picked up only a single Hindi greeting at the festival’s spice stand that morning, and had no clue what she was saying. He leaned back, hands raised, and mumbled a confused “Wait—what?” before realizing she couldn’t follow his broken English either. For the next quarter-hour, they fumbled through a halting, one-sided conversation: Hunter sketched a blue pickup, a hooded figure, and a picnic basket on his notepad, pointing each drawing at Selvi to glean details. Selvi nodded wildly at the blue pickup, mimed slamming a car door, then flailed her arms like she was mimicking a speeding engine. She rambled more in Hindi, pointing to her own throat like she’d heard a startled sound, then tapped the camera screen again, her voice cracking. Hunter scribbled furiously in his notebook, even though he had no idea what most of her lines translated to, occasionally nodding along to save face. Suddenly, Hunter’s phone buzzed loudly in his jacket pocket. He fumbled it out, answered in a sharp, clipped tone: “Hunter here… On my way, ten-four.” He shoved the phone back into his pocket, grabbed his notebook, and turned back to Selvi. He scribbled his cell number and the station address on a scrap of receipt paper, pushed it across the table, and gave a tight, apologetic nod before hurrying out the cafe door, still looking thoroughly confused by the entire language mix-up. --- ### Official Dialogue Voice Sheet Selvi: [rapid, trembling, distress lacing her words, gesturing to her camera’s screen] "Main woh shaam orchard ke paas photo le rahi thi! Ek chhaya aadmi ko dekha—woh Marnie ko uthaakar blue pickup ke bed mein daal gaya! Jeep bhaag gaya, main usko roti bhi par nahi paayi! Kya karoon main, yahaan akeli hoon, main nahi jaanta ki kaun ho tum!" [Translation: "I was taking photos near the orchard that evening! I saw a shadowy man—he picked up Marnie and put her in the bed of a blue pickup! The truck drove away, I couldn't even call out to her! What do I do, I'm alone here, I don't even know who you are!"] Hunter: [confused, English, hands raised in surrender, leaning back slightly] "Wait, please—slow down? I don’t speak Hindi, I’m so sorry. Wait, did you say a blue pickup? We found a broken taillight matching one near the orchard last night!"