Run: 2026-05-01-01KQHSMT2JETNC2A873J792CG0

**Scene** The midday sun filtered through the striped awning of the little café on Main Street in Alborn, Minnesota. Marie sat at an outdoor table, her half-finished café au lait growing cool beside her. She was scrolling through the photos on her camera, eyebrows furrowed. The last few images she’d taken near the old orchard path during the Apple Festival preparations showed something… wrong. A blurred shape. Footprints that didn’t belong. She hadn’t slept well since. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a dark jacket approached. His stride was purposeful, almost military. He stopped beside her table. Hunter studied the young woman with the expensive-looking camera. She looked shaken. Exactly the kind of witness he needed right now. **Voice Sheet** Marie: "…Qu’est-ce qui se passe ici ? J’ai vu quelque chose… dans les vergers hier soir. Une silhouette. Et puis ce bruit… comme si on traînait quelque chose de lourd. J’ai peur. Je ne sais pas à qui en parler. Tout le monde agit comme si rien n’était arrivé, mais je sais que ce n’est pas normal…" Hunter: "Ma’am? I’m Detective Hunter. I’m looking into the disappearances around the festival. Did you see anything unusual in the last few days? Anyone acting strange near the orchards?" Marie: "…Je ne comprends pas. Pourquoi personne ne me croit ? J’ai pris des photos, regardez ! Là, sur l’écran… cette ombre entre les pommiers. Et maintenant je n’arrive plus à dormir. J’ai l’impression qu’on m’observe. S’il vous plaît, dites-moi que je ne suis pas folle…" Hunter: "Slow down. I don’t speak French. English? Do you speak any English at all? I need to know if you saw something the night Thomas Miller vanished. Anything. A vehicle, a person, even a strange sound." Marie: "…Thomas ? C’est le troisième cette semaine, n’est-ce pas ? J’étais là-bas avec mon appareil. J’ai tout vu. Ou presque. Mais comment expliquer ça à un policier qui ne comprend rien ? Mon Dieu, je voudrais rentrer à la maison…" Hunter: "Okay. This isn’t working. Look, here’s my card. If you can find someone who speaks both languages, have them call me. I’ll be back tomorrow. Stay safe, alright?" Marie: "…Attendez ! Ne partez pas tout de suite. J’ai peur de rester seule. Ces photos… elles montrent quelque chose d’horrible. Je le sens." Hunter’s phone began to ring. He glanced at the screen, jaw tightening. Hunter: "I have to take this. It’s the station. We’ll talk again soon. Try to stay in town." He gave her one last frustrated but concerned look, then turned and strode away, answering the call as he went. Marie watched him leave, clutching her camera to her chest. The café suddenly felt very empty.