Run: 2026-09-01-01M1EMBPPGBRWMD5YYHTW6G0ET

The afternoon light in Alborn’s small café fell across the counter where Marie sat, her camera pressed close to her chest. She was reviewing a series of landscape shots from the old mill near the apple orchard when Hunter approached—his posture straight, his expression all business, the kind of no-nonsense look that suggested he didn’t have time for small talk in a town of three thousand people. He asked about the recent disappearances near the festival grounds, and Marie looked up, her hands trembling. She answered in rapid, shaken French, her eyes darting to the camera lens and back again, clearly distressed and unable to make herself understood. Hunter frowned, clearly confused by every word, but he pressed on until his phone rang with an urgent call that pulled him away. Marie: "Excusez-moi... je ne comprends pas votre langue. Je suis française, et... et ce que vous dites, c'est terrible. Les gens qui disparaissent... j'ai vu quelque chose." Hunter: "Ma'am, I'm Detective Hunter. I'm investigating the disappearances near the orchard. Did you see anything at the apple festival grounds?" Marie: "Le moulin... oui. J'ai ma caméra, toujours. Mais... il y a une ombre. Je ne veux pas y penser. J'ai peur." Hunter: "A shadow? I'm sorry, I don't speak French. Show me your pictures. Are they of the missing people?" Marie: "Non, des paysages... mais attendez, ici... c'est pas un arbre. C'est quelqu'un? Non, pas quelqu'un. C'est dangereux. Je veux rentrer chez moi." Hunter: "Look, I don't have time for a language lesson. Did you see anything near the mill? Yes or no?" Marie: "Le festival... non. Je ne veux pas parler. Laissez-moi." Hunter: "If you can't understand me, just point to the photo. Did you take pictures of the missing people?" Marie: "Non... seulement des arbres et le ciel. Mais le moulin... il est vivant. Je ne veux plus regarder mon appareil photo." Hunter: "Hunter. Yeah, I'm coming. Sorry, I have to leave." (To Marie) "Thanks... I think. If you find anything, talk to the station on Main." Marie: "Au revoir... faites attention." Hunter: "You too, I guess. And stay away from that mill." Marie closed her camera case and turned away, trembling. Hunter pulled on his coat and disappeared into the Alborn street, leaving behind nothing but the faint smell of apple cider from the festival posters on the wall and a very confused detective with no idea what she had said.