Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ095MJB8QQTCD6FP3F3513A

# Chapter 12: The Language of Worry The little café on Maple Street smelled of cinnamon and roasted coffee. Melanie sat at a corner table near the window, her camera resting in her lap as she flipped through the photos on the small LCD screen — golden fields, old barns, the quiet charm of a Minnesota autumn. A half-empty cup of tea sat cooling beside her, forgotten. Detective Hunter Briggs noticed her immediately when he walked in. Not because she was doing anything suspicious, but because she was the only person in the café who *wasn't* talking. In a town like Alborn, quiet was conspicuous. He adjusted his jacket, approached her table, and offered a polite nod. **Hunter:** "Excuse me. Sorry to bother you. I'm Detective Hunter Briggs. I'm working a case — some folks have gone missing around here lately, and I'm just going door to door, cafe to cafe. You wouldn't happen to have seen anything unusual the past few days, would you?" Melanie looked up from her camera, startled. She studied his face — the serious set of his jaw, the badge clipped to his belt — and swallowed hard. Her hands trembled slightly as she set the camera down on the table. **Melanie:** *(voice unsteady, eyes wide)* "Oh... oh Gott, ich... ich habe schon so viel Angst gehabt. Ich wollte schon zur Polizei gehen, aber ich wusste nicht wie... ich habe etwas gesehen, am Wald, vor zwei Nächten. Da war ein Auto, ganz dunkel, und es hat dort gestanden, mitten in der Nacht. Und ich... ich habe Schreie gehört. Weit entfernt, aber klar. Es war furchtbar." She clutched the edge of the table, her knuckles white, as though reliving the memory. Her eyes glistened. Hunter stared at her. He caught the urgency in her tone, the fear etched across her face, but not a single word had landed. He blinked, then scratched the back of his neck. **Hunter:** "I... I'm sorry. I don't — I don't speak German. Not a word, I'm afraid." Melanie pressed her lips together in frustration. She tapped her chest with an open hand. **Melanie:** *(slowly, enunciating as if volume might help)* "Ich. Spreche. Kein. Englisch." She pointed at him. **Melanie:** "Kein Englisch für mich." **Hunter:** *(gesturing vaguely at his own mouth)* "And no German for me. Zero. Not even 'guten tag.'" A helpless silence hung between them. Melanie reached for her camera, clutching it like a security blanket, then set it down again. She pulled a napkin from the dispenser and grabbed a pen from her bag. **Melanie:** *(writing, then sliding the napkin across)* "I saw something. In the forest. At night. A car. Dark car. I heard... *(she paused, struggling for the word, then mimed screaming, hands to her cheeks)* ...screaming." Hunter leaned in and read the napkin. His jaw tightened. **Hunter:** "You saw a dark car near the forest at night... and heard screaming." Melanie nodded vigorously, relief washing over her face at being understood. **Melanie:** "Ja! Ja, genau. Zwei Nächte vorher. *(She held up two fingers.)* Und das Auto — es war dort, still. Kein Licht. Nur... dunkel." She mimed something sitting motionless — hands flat, still — then pointed toward the window, toward the tree line beyond town. **Hunter:** "Which direction was this? Down by the old timber road, or closer to Miller's Ridge?" Melanie frowned, not understanding. Hunter tried pointing in different directions. She watched, then slowly pointed east — toward the woods past the apple orchards. **Hunter:** "East. Toward the orchard woods." *(He pulled a small notebook from his jacket.)* "What time was this?" **Melanie:** *(confused, then understanding the intent)* "Um... *(She checked her phone, scrolled to the clock, pointed at it and mouthed)* ...two? Three? Nacht. Night." **Hunter:** "Two or three in the morning. Got it." *(He wrote quickly.)* "And the screaming — man, woman? How many people?" Melanie held up her hands, palms out, shaking her head. **Melanie:** "I don't know... maybe... *(she held up one finger, then a second)* ...zwei? Maybe two voices?" **Hunter:** "Two voices." *(He wrote it down.)* "Did you see anyone? A face, a license plate — anything?" Melanie shook her head sadly. She pulled the napkin back and wrote another line, then handed it over. *"Too dark. I was scared. I stayed inside. I am sorry."* Hunter read it, then looked at her — really looked at her. The fear behind her eyes was genuine. This wasn't someone making things up. **Hunter:** *(softer now)* "Don't apologize. You came forward. That's what matters." She didn't understand the words, but his tone — the gentleness beneath the gruffness — translated just fine. She gave a small, fragile nod. Hunter opened his mouth to ask more when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and his expression hardened. He held up one finger to Melanie — *one moment* — and stepped toward the door. **Hunter:** *(into the phone)* "Briggs. — When? — Are you serious? — No, stay there, don't touch anything. I'm on my way." He hung up and turned back to Melanie, who was watching him with renewed worry written across her face. **Hunter:** "I have to go. Something's come up. *(He pulled a card from his wallet and set it on the table in front of her.)* That's my number. If you remember anything else — *anything* — even if it's just drawings on napkins, call me. Okay?" Melanie picked up the card, studied it, and clutched it in both hands. **Melanie:** "Ja. Ja, ich werde anrufen." **Hunter:** *(half-smiling despite himself)* "I'm going to take that as a yes." He gave her one last nod, then was out the door and into his truck before the bell above the café entrance had stopped swinging. Melanie sat alone at the table again, her camera forgotten, Hunter's card pressed against her racing heart. Outside, the autumn leaves spiraled down from the maple trees, and the town of Alborn looked as peaceful as ever. But something was very, very wrong in those woods. --- ### VOICE SHEET **Melanie:** "Oh... oh Gott, ich... ich habe schon so viel Angst gehabt. Ich wollte schon zur Polizei gehen, aber ich wusste nicht wie... ich habe etwas gesehen, am Wald, vor zwei Nächten. Da war ein Auto, ganz dunkel, und es hat dort gestanden, mitten in der Nacht. Und ich... ich habe Schreie gehört. Weit entfernt, aber klar. Es war furchtbar." **Hunter:** "I... I'm sorry. I don't — I don't speak German. Not a word, I'm afraid." **Melanie:** "Ich. Spreche. Kein. Englisch." **Melanie:** "Kein Englisch für mich." **Hunter:** "And no German for me. Zero. Not even 'guten tag.'" **Melanie:** "I saw something. In the forest. At night. A car. Dark car. I heard... screaming." **Hunter:** "You saw a dark car near the forest at night... and heard screaming." **Melanie:** "Ja! Ja, genau. Zwei Nächte vorher. Und das Auto — es war dort, still. Kein Licht. Nur... dunkel." **Hunter:** "Which direction was this? Down by the old timber road, or closer to Miller's Ridge?" **Melanie:** *(miming, pointing)* "East. Toward the orchard woods." **Hunter:** "East. Toward the orchard woods. What time was this?" **Melanie:** "Um... two? Three? Nacht. Night." **Hunter:** "Two or three in the morning. Got it. And the screaming — man, woman? How many people?" **Melanie:** "I don't know... maybe... zwei? Maybe two voices?" **Hunter:** "Two voices. Did you see anyone? A face, a license plate — anything?" **Melanie:** *(writing on a napkin)* "Too dark. I was scared. I stayed inside. I am sorry." **Hunter:** "Don't apologize. You came forward. That's what matters." **Hunter:** *(into phone)* "Briggs. — When? — Are you serious? — No, stay there, don't touch anything. I'm on my way." **Hunter:** "I have to go. Something's come up. That's my number. If you remember anything else — *anything* — even if it's just drawings on napkins, call me. Okay?" **Melanie:** "Ja. Ja, ich werde anrufen." **Hunter:** "I'm going to take that as a yes."