Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1HD9KGS19MNFP4YMQWTJSP

**INT. ALBORN CAFÉ — DAY** *Afternoon light filters through smudged windows. MARIE (30, French, camera strap around her neck) sits alone at a small table, turning her camera over in her hands, distracted. The café is quiet — just the hiss of the espresso machine. HUNTER (35, detective, jacket creased from a long morning) steps inside, scans the room, and spots her. He pulls out the chair across from her and sits down uninvited.* --- **Hunter:** "Ma'am? I'm Detective Hunter, with the Alborn PD. Mind if I ask you a few questions?" *(Marie looks up, startled. She squints at him, processing.)* **Marie:** "Pardon ? Je… je ne comprends pas." **Hunter:** "I'm looking into the Henderson disappearance. You were at the apple festival Saturday, weren't you? Spoke to a couple of vendors who said a young woman with a French accent was taking pictures near the orchard around dusk." *(Marie's eyes go wide. She clutches her camera tighter.)* **Marie:** "Le festival… oui. Oui, j'y étais." **Hunter:** "Did you happen to see anything unusual? Anyone acting strange near the old barn at the edge of the property?" **Marie:** "La grange ? Mon Dieu, oui. Il y avait un homme. Il—" *(She shudders, the words tumbling out faster. She pulls the camera toward her chest like a shield.)* **Marie:** "Il regardait les gens. Comme… comme s'il les choisissait. Je l'ai vu, avec mon appareil, et il a levé les yeux. Directement sur moi." **Hunter:** "Okay… okay, slow down. I'm sorry, I don't — I don't speak any French. Do you have someone who can translate? A friend? A phone?" *(Marie shakes her head, frustrated. She points at her camera, then mimes a man looking through the viewfinder.)* **Marie:** "J'ai une photo. Regardez !" *(She sets the camera on the table, thumb hovering over the playback button, hesitant.)* **Marie:** "Mais il m'a vue. Et son visage… c'était vide. Comme s'il n'y avait rien derrière. Je n'ai pas dormi depuis samedi. Je n'ose pas—" *(She trails off, looking toward the café window, suddenly paranoid.)* **Hunter:** "Hey. Hey. I need you to look at me. The festival — you took pictures of the man? Is that what you're telling me?" *(Marie nods emphatically, pointing at the camera again.)* **Marie:** "Oui ! Oui, la photo—" **Hunter:** "Can you show me? Right now? Just press play and turn it toward me." *(Marie hesitates, fingers trembling over the button. She takes a breath and starts to turn the camera —)* *Hunter's phone BUZZES loudly on the table. He glances at the screen: CAPTAIN NORRIS — URGENT. He exhales sharply through his nose.)* **Hunter:** "Hold on. Hold on just one second." *(He answers, voice dropping low.)* **Hunter:** "Norris. Yeah, I'm on it. Where? …The Peterson place? Alright, I'm ten minutes out." *(He hangs up and looks back at Marie — torn, his jaw tight. He pulls a business card from his pocket and slides it across the table.)* **Hunter:** "Listen. I don't know what you're trying to tell me, and I hate that I don't. You come down to the station tonight, you understand? Six o'clock. Bring the camera." *(He stands, chair scraping.)* **Hunter:** "And ma'am? Don't go back to that orchard alone." *(Marie stares up at him, uncomprehending but reading the urgency in his face. She nods slowly, pulling the camera back against her chest. Hunter adjusts his jacket and strides out of the café, the little bell above the door jingling once behind him.)* *(Marie looks down at the business card. Then at the camera. Then at the door.)* *She whispers to herself, almost inaudibly:* **Marie:** "Il y a quelque chose qui ne va pas dans cette ville." --- **[END SCENE]**