Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0AT56G48QFA9QEJWVGN3NT

**At the Corner Café – Alborn, MN** *Marie sits alone at a small table by the window, her camera resting on the table beside her half-finished coffee. She scrolls through her photographs with a distant expression, occasionally pausing on certain shots. Hunter enters the café, scans the room, and spots her. He pulls out the chair across from her and sits down.* --- **Hunter:** "You're the French exchange student staying at the Birchwood Inn, right? Name's Hunter. I'm with the county sheriff's office." **Marie:** *(looking up, startled)* "...Excusez-moi?" **Hunter:** *(leaning forward, speaking slowly)* "I need to ask you some questions. About last Friday night. Did you see anything unusual near the old sawmill?" **Marie:** *(her expression darkens, she grips her camera tightly)* "...Oui... oui, j'étais là-bas. J'ai pris des photos du coucher de soleil sur la rivière. Mais ensuite..." *(she trails off, visibly shaken)* "...j'ai entendu un cri. Un cri terrible. Et après... plus rien." **Hunter:** *(staring blankly, furrowing his brow)* "...I don't... I'm sorry, I don't speak French." **Marie:** *(frustrated, pressing her hand to her chest)* "Non, non... moi, pas anglais. Je..." *(she makes a helpless gesture, then turns her camera toward him and points at a photograph — a blurry image of a figure near the treeline)* "...regardez." **Hunter:** *(squinting at the photo)* "That's... is that a person? When was this taken?" **Marie:** *(nodding emphatically, switching to broken, effortful words)* "Vendredi... Friday. Oui. Personne... person, là." *(she points to the treeline in the photo)* "Après... après, Monsieur Leclerc... gone. Disparu." **Hunter:** *(pulling out a small notepad, jotting something down)* "Leclerc. The antique dealer. You're saying you saw someone near the sawmill the night he disappeared?" **Marie:** *(nodding, her eyes glistening)* "Oui... oui. Mais je ne sais pas qui. C'était... c'était trop sombre. Dark. Trop dark." **Hunter:** *(softening slightly)* "Okay. Okay, that's helpful. I need you to come by the station later so we can get a proper statement. With a translator. Can you do that?" **Marie:** *(hesitating, then nodding slowly)* "Station... oui. Oui, je peux." **Hunter:** "Good. And until then — stay away from that sawmill. There's something not right about what's happening in this town." **Marie:** *(quietly, almost to herself)* "...Quelque chose ne va pas, ici." *(she looks down at her camera)* **Hunter:** *(standing, tucking away his notepad)* "I appreciate your help. I'll be in touch." *Just as Hunter turns to leave, his phone buzzes. He answers it, his expression hardening immediately.* **Hunter:** "Hunter speaking... When? ...No, don't touch anything. I'm on my way." *(he hangs up and looks back at Marie, who watches him with wide eyes)* "Something's come up. We'll finish this later." *(he drops a card on the table)* "Call me if you remember anything else. Anything at all." *Hunter strides out of the café. Marie picks up his card, turning it over in her fingers. She glances down at her camera one more time — at the blurred figure in the treeline — and shivers.* --- *End of scene.*