Run: 2026-05-01-01KQHS7XJ3VWBSGAD43GBRAK1R

**Scene:** The late afternoon sun filtered through the windows of *Le Petit Café*, a quiet corner spot in downtown Alborn. Marie sat alone at a small table by the window, her dark hair falling across her face as she scrolled through the photos on her camera. The annual Apple Festival had been three days ago. She kept returning to the same set of images: laughing families, caramel apples, the old carousel… and one blurred photo taken at dusk that she couldn’t stop staring at. The café door opened with a jingle. Hunter stepped inside, his broad shoulders filling the frame. He scanned the room, eyes landing on the young woman with the camera. He’d been told she might have seen something. He approached her table. --- **Voice Sheet** Marie: “…?” Hunter: “Ma’am, I’m Detective Hunter with the Alborn County Sheriff’s Office. Mind if I sit down? I’d like to ask you a few questions about the night of the Apple Festival. There was an incident near the old mill. Several people reported seeing a woman with a camera taking pictures around that time. Was that you?” Marie: “Je… je ne comprends pas. Attendez… Vous êtes de la police ? Mon Dieu, tout ça… c’était horrible. J’ai vu quelque chose, mais… mais ce n’était pas normal. La silhouette près des arbres… elle a juste… disparu. Comme si l’ombre l’avait avalée. J’ai pris une photo mais… je n’ose plus regarder. J’ai peur, monsieur. Très peur.” Hunter: “…” *(Hunter stares at her, brow furrowed, clearly understanding none of the rapid French. He rubs the back of his neck, visibly frustrated.)* Hunter: “Okay… I don’t speak French. Not a word. Do you… speak any English? English? *Parlez-vous anglais?* That’s… that’s about all I got.” Marie: “Anglais ? Non, désolée… Je suis étudiante. Je suis arrivée il y a seulement deux semaines. Tout le monde ici parle trop vite et… et après ce que j’ai vu ce soir-là… *tremblement dans la voix* Je ne dors plus. Chaque fois que je ferme les yeux, je revois cette forme sombre.” Hunter: “Look, I can tell you’re upset. Something clearly shook you. If you saw anything—anything at all—related to those disappearances, I need to know. Maybe we can find someone who speaks French. The college has translators on staff—” *(Marie’s hands shake as she turns the camera toward him, showing the last photo: a blurry, tall silhouette standing between the trees at the edge of the orchard, almost as if it has no face. She taps the screen.)* Marie: “Regardez… Regardez ça. Ce n’est pas une personne. Ce n’est pas… humain. S’il vous plaît, dites-moi que je deviens folle.” Hunter: “…” *(Hunter leans in, studying the image. His jaw tightens. For a long moment he says nothing, clearly disturbed by what he sees even without understanding her words. The silence stretches between them. Then his phone rings sharply.)* Hunter: “This is Hunter… Yeah. I’m on my way. Ten minutes.” *(He hangs up and stands, looking genuinely apologetic.)* Hunter: “I have to go—another lead just came in on the case. But I’m not done with you. Stay in town. Please. We’ll figure out the language barrier tomorrow. I’ll bring someone who speaks French. Until then… be careful, okay?” *(Marie watches him leave, clutching her camera to her chest. She whispers to herself as the café door swings shut behind him.)* Marie: “Faites attention, détective… Cette chose… elle est toujours là.”