Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFMHGFX9D0SP92KGEG0KNSD

**Scene: The Daily Grind Café – Main Street, Alborn, MN** --- Marie sat hunched over a small corner table, her camera bag beside her, her fingers tracing the lens of her Canon like a talisman. She hadn't taken a single photo today. The light had gone flat, and her hands wouldn't stop shaking. Hunter pulled out the chair across from her and sat down without asking. **Hunter:** "Excuse me, miss. Detective Hunter Marsh, Alborn PD." He flipped open a badge on the table. "Mind if I ask you a few questions? You were at the apple orchard yesterday evening, right?" Marie looked up, startled. She blinked at the badge, then at his face. She opened her mouth, and what came out was rapid, unsteady French. **Marie:** "Oui… oui, j'étais là, mais… mon Dieu, je ne comprends pas ce qui s'est passé. Je l'ai vu. L'homme dans les arbres. Il regardait cette fille, et puis… elle a disparu. Juste comme ça. Disparue dans les branches, dans le noir. Je ne dormais plus depuis hier soir. Je n'arrive pas à arrêter de trembler, regardez mes mains—" She held them out. They were trembling. Hunter leaned forward, jaw tight, scanning her face for any readable cue. He caught perhaps one word he vaguely recognized — *oui* — and nothing else. **Hunter:** "Whoa, okay, slow down. I… don't understand. You speak— French?" **Marie:** "Français, oui! Je parle français! Je ne parle pas anglais, je suis désolée—" **Hunter:** "Right. Right." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Do you—" He pointed at her, then at himself, then made a slow, exaggerated gesture of speaking. "English? Anything?" **Marie:** "Non. Juste… non." She shook her head helplessly. **Hunter:** "Damn it." He glanced around the café as if hoping a translator might materialize from behind the pastry case. Nothing. He pulled out his phone, tapped through his contacts, muttered, "Come on, come on…" **Marie:** She watched him, then leaned forward slightly. "L'homme dans les arbres," she repeated, quieter now. She pointed toward the window, then made a gesture — her fingers curling around an invisible shape, pulling it inward, swallowing it whole. Her eyes were wide. Hunter studied the gesture carefully. **Hunter:** "Something… grabbed her? From the trees?" Marie nodded emphatically. "Oui, oui! C'est ça!" **Hunter:** "The girl. You saw someone take the girl?" **Marie:** She nodded again, then said, slower, as if the words cost her something, "Elle avait… un chapeau rouge. Une fille, petite, très jeune. Je ne sais pas son nom." **Hunter:** "A girl in a red hat… you didn't know her name?" **Marie:** "Non." She pressed her fingertips to her eyes. "Mais j'ai une photo. Peut-être. Je ne sais pas si elle est bonne, je tremblais trop—" She fumbled for the camera, turned it on, and began scrolling through her shots with unsteady thumbs. Hunter watched, waiting. Then his phone buzzed — a sharp, insistent ring that made both of them flinch. **Hunter:** He glanced at the screen. His expression hardened. "Marsh." He listened for a moment, then stood. "I have to go. Another one." He looked down at Marie, who was still scrolling, still trembling, still muttering in French. **Hunter:** "I'm going to find someone who speaks your language. I'll come back. Don't leave town." **Marie:** She looked up at him, lost. "Quoi? Je ne—" **Hunter:** "Stay. Here." He pointed at the table, then at her. "I'll be back." He was already moving toward the door, phone pressed to his ear. **Hunter:** "Tell me it's not a child this time—" The door swung shut behind him. Marie sat alone again, the screen of her camera glowing in her hands, the faces of strangers blurred in the viewfinder. She whispered to no one: **Marie:** "Je n'ai rien pu faire." --- **[ END SCENE ]**