Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFJYSNZXYMRPK1KMRZY7WSV

# Scene: The Bean Counter Café — Alborn, MN *The afternoon sun slants through the window of the small café. Marie sits alone at a corner table, her camera resting on the surface in front of her. She scrolls slowly through the photos on its display screen, her brow furrowed. A half-finished latte has gone cold beside her. She pauses on one image in particular — she zooms in, then quickly turns the camera face-down against the table.* *Hunter enters, scanning the café. He's dressed in a plain jacket over a button-down, badge clipped to his belt. He approaches her table and pulls out the opposite chair without sitting.* --- **Hunter:** Excuse me — you're Marie, right? The photography student from the university program? **Marie:** *(looks up, startled)* ...Oui? **Hunter:** I'm Detective Hunter. I'm investigating the disappearance of two people from this area over the past few weeks. Mind if I ask you a few questions? **Marie:** *(blinks rapidly, then nods slowly)* D'accord... Oui, c'est possible. **Hunter:** *(slight pause, registering the French)* Right. Okay. Do you live near the old mill road? Some witnesses said they saw someone with a camera out that way, around the same time one of the individuals went missing. **Marie:** *(her face pales. She grips the edge of the camera on the table)* Le... le vieux moulin ? C'est moi, c'est mon chemin de tous les jours pour la photo. Mais Detective, ce que j'ai vu... *(voice trembling)* ...ce n'était pas normal. **Hunter:** *(leaning forward, trying to catch fragments)* Sorry — I don't... I don't speak French. Can you, uh — do you have a phone? Maybe a translator app? **Marie:** *(shakes her head, frustrated — pulls out her phone and shows him the cracked, dark screen)* Non. C'est cassé. Depuis hier. *(She sets the phone down and takes a shaky breath, trying to find English words)* ...I see... something. At the mill. Un homme. He was... *(gestures, dragging her finger across the table like pulling something)* ...trailing... a girl. **Hunter:** Trailing? Like following her? **Marie:** *(nods vigorously)* Oui, oui ! Suivant ! Like... *(she points at herself, then mimes someone watching her from behind)* ...from the trees. She did not know. And then... *(she makes a motion of something vanishing — open palms, gone)* **Hunter:** And then what? What happened to her? **Marie:** *(eyes welling up, hands shaking)* Je ne sais pas ! Je suis retournée le lendemain — rien. Plus rien. Juste... l'herbe était aplatie. Comme si quelqu'un avait dormi là. Ou... *(she swallows hard)* ...ou traîné. **Hunter:** *(frustrated silence)* ...Okay. I'm going to try to work with what we've got. Did you take a photo? Of the man? **Marie:** *(hesitates, then slowly turns the camera screen toward him — her hand trembling)* **Hunter:** *(studies the screen — it's a long-distance landscape shot of the mill area, but near the tree line, there's an indistinct figure)* Can you zoom in on this? Closer. **Marie:** *(turns the camera back and pinches the screen to zoom — the figure becomes slightly clearer but remains blurry and dark)* C'est tout ce que j'ai. Il est... *(searching)* ...fast. He moved fast. Like military. **Hunter:** *(narrows his eyes at the screen)* Military? **Marie:** *(nods slowly)* Comme toi, peut-être. *(She glances at his posture, his jacket, his boots)* ...Oui. Comme toi. **Hunter:** *(uncomfortable beat)* ...Where exactly was this taken? Can you show me on a map? **Marie:** *(pulls out a crumpled, hand-drawn map from her jacket pocket — it's annotated entirely in French, with little camera sketches marking photo spots)* Ici. *(She points to a spot near the mill)* This one. C'est là que tout se passe. **Hunter:** *(takes a photo of the map with his own phone)* I appreciate this. This is more than I've gotten from anyone else in a week. *Hunter's phone buzzes loudly on the table. He glances at the screen and his jaw tightens.* **Hunter:** *(picking up)* Hunter. — When? — How many this time? — *(long pause, eyes closing)* ...No, I understand. I'm on my way. *He ends the call and stands abruptly.* **Hunter:** I'm sorry, I have to go. Another missing person report just came in. **Marie:** *(stands too, clutching her camera)* Non ! Detective, il faut que je vous dise plus — il y a d'autres choses, d'autres détails— **Hunter:** *(holds up a hand)* I know. I know there's more. Can you come to the station tomorrow? Do you have a way to get there? **Marie:** *(nods, pointing vaguely outside)* Oui. Je... j'ai un vélo. **Hunter:** Good. Tomorrow morning, nine AM. And Marie — *(he pauses, choosing his words carefully)* — be careful going home. Don't take the mill road. Not until I say so. *Marie stares at him, understanding the tone if not every word. She nods solemnly.* **Marie:** ...D'accord. Demain. *Hunter gives a curt nod and hurries out the door. Marie sinks back into her chair, hugging her camera to her chest. She stares out the window for a long moment, then slowly pulls the camera back up and scrolls again to that blurry figure in the trees.* *She whispers to herself:* **Marie:** *(barely audible)* ...Qu'est-ce que tu as fait à cette fille ?