Run: 2026-03-18-01KM088H22ANND4X6ESVYX1NC1

Marie: “Excusez-moi… je—je ne comprends pas bien—” *(her fingers tighten around the camera strap as she looks up, troubled)* “—vous parlez… anglais? Je suis… sur un programme d’études ici. Je—je ne suis pas encore—” Hunter: “I’m Detective Hunter. Alborn PD.” *(no-nonsense, staring a moment at her camera, then back to her face)* “I need to ask you about the missing folks. There was something at the apple festival, wasn’t there?” Marie: “Oui… l’événement… l’hôpital? Non—je ne sais pas.” *(she swallows, eyes flicking nervously toward the window)* “J’ai vu… j’ai vu une personne, près des pommiers. Il faisait déjà sombre. Et puis—après—il n’était plus là.” Hunter: “Near the festival grounds. You’re sure?” Marie: “Je suis… je suis sûre.” *(she shakes her head, voice trembling)* “Mais je ne sais pas… comment expliquer.” *(she gestures helplessly, palm up, then lowers it to her lap)* “Je pensais seulement prendre une photo. Le vent… les lumières… tout était joli.” *(a harsh breath)* “Et après… il y avait du bruit, comme quelqu’un qui… crie, mais très loin.” Hunter: “A scream. Where?” Marie: “Derrière les stands.” *(she leans in as if the details might help him understand; her French is fast, shaken)* “Près des bacs à pommes. Un homme… grand. Il a parlé—pas… pas comme les gens d’ici.” *(she pauses, eyes searching for the right words)* “Il y avait une odeur de… de quelque chose de brûlé.” Hunter: “Burnt?” *(he frowns, clearly trying to translate the meaning without the language)* “Okay. Who was he? Do you know his name?” Marie: “Non… je ne connais pas.” *(her voice cracks)* “Mais je l’ai entendu regarder… regarder mon appareil. Comme si… comme si je faisais quelque chose de mal.” *(she presses her camera against her chest protectively)* “Et ensuite, j’ai vu la personne—celle que j’ai suivie—elle n’est—elle n’est plus revenue.” Hunter: “You followed someone?” Marie: “Juste… un peu.” *(she looks away, ashamed and frightened)* “J’ai pensé—‘Je vais juste prendre une photo de la fête.’ C’est tout.” *(a beat)* “Mais c’était comme… comme une porte qui se ferme. Tout s’est arrêté.” Hunter: “Dammit.” *(he rubs his jaw, impatient with the communication barrier)* “Listen. I need facts I can put in a report. The festival date. A description. Anything you saw clearly.” Marie: “La date… c’était—je ne sais pas—je pense samedi.” *(she presses her lips together, frustrated)* “La personne portait… une veste sombre. Et elle avait—” *(she stops, hearing her own uncertainty)* “Elle n’avait pas l’air d’un touriste.” Hunter: “So not a tourist. Got it.” *(he pauses, scanning the café as if the mystery might be sitting at the next table)* “Why didn’t you call the police?” Marie: “Parce que… parce que je n’ai pas—” *(she lifts her hands, helpless, and her eyes flash with fear)* “—je ne pouvais pas parler. Je ne pouvais pas dire ‘aidez-moi’. Je… je tremblais.” Hunter: “You’re talking to me now.” Marie: “Oui, mais—” *(she shakes her head, then gestures again, more urgently than before)* “Vous ne comprenez pas. Je—je—” *(she inhales sharply)* “Je suis désolée. Je suis désolée.” Hunter: *(a beat, then softer but still firm)* “Don’t be sorry. Be careful with your answers. Anything else that stood out?” Marie: *(she points toward the corner where her camera sits, then looks at him, insisting)* “La lumière. Très étrange. Une lumière—comme un projecteur.” *(her French quickens; she’s thinking in images)* “Et un bruit… pas seulement de fête. Comme… comme des pas qui ne suivent pas la musique.” Hunter: “Footsteps not in time with the music.” *(he nods once, writing something in his mind)* “Okay.” *(then he realizes he can’t verify anything)* “Do you have pictures?” Marie: “Oui.” *(a small, relieved rush)* “Je—je les ai. Mais… je n’ai pas encore regardé tout.” *(she opens her camera case carefully, like it might break)* “Je peux montrer… si vous voulez.” Hunter: “Maybe.” *(he leans in, trying to coax her into something he can use)* “Show me what you have.” Marie: *(she lifts the camera, but her hands shake; her expression is raw with worry)* “D’accord… mais—je ne sais pas ce que ça prouvera.” *(a whisper)* “Je veux seulement qu’ils soient retrouvés.” Hunter: “That’s my job.” *(he glances at his phone, face tightening)* “Hold on.” Marie: “Quoi?” *(she looks alarmed)* “Qu’est-ce qui se passe?” Hunter: *(answering the call immediately)* “Hunter.” *(listens, jaw set)* “What do you mean—now? In town? Alright. I’m on my way.” *(he hangs up fast)* Marie: “Non… non, attendez—” *(she reaches slightly toward him, but stops)* “Vous devez… vous devez me dire… qu’est-ce qui est arrivé?” Hunter: “I’ve got another lead. I’ll need you to stay put.” *(he tries to be clear, but language makes it harder)* “Do not leave. Call the department if you can figure out how—someone will translate.” Marie: *(hoping, then terrified by the speed of it all)* “D’accord… d’accord. Mais… vous reviendrez?” Hunter: “I will.” *(he gives her a short, decisive look, no-nonsense even as concern flickers)* “Don’t touch those photos. If there’s anything on them that looks wrong, you show it to me later—understood?” Marie: *(a tight nod, clutching her camera as if it’s the only solid thing in the world)* “Oui. Oui, compris.” Hunter: “Good.” *(one last glance around the café)* “Stay safe, Marie.” Marie: *(smaller now, French spilling out like a plea)* “Merci… s’il vous plaît… soyez prudent.” *(she watches him move away, shaken and staring at her own reflection in the camera lens)* Hunter: *(already halfway out, curt but certain)* “Alborn’s not done with this mess yet.”