Run: 2026-09-02-01M1GTMAM9246WP93MBPANBA0H

*THE SUGAR MAPLE CAFÉ — MAIN STREET, ALBORN, MN — MORNING* **Marie:** *(looking up from her camera, startled)* "Pardon ? Vous me parlez, monsieur ? Je... je ne comprends pas. Je ne parle pas anglais." **Hunter:** "...Okay. Uh. Ma'am. Detective Hunter, Alborn Sheriff's Department. Mind if I sit? We're asking everyone who was out near Miller's Creek last night. You see anything? A vehicle? A person?" **Marie:** *(frowning, shaking her head slowly)* "Je ne comprends pas, monsieur... Attendez. Attendez un peu. Vous êtes policier, c'est ça ? Oh, mon Dieu. Asseyez-vous. Asseyez-vous, s'il vous plaît." **Hunter:** "Yeah, I'm gonna take that as a yes to sitting." *(he sits)* **Marie:** *(leaning forward, voice low and shaking)* "Écoutez-moi. Ce matin, très tôt, j'étais en bas de la colline, près du ruisseau. Je photographiais la brume sur l'eau. C'est tout. Je jure que c'est tout ce que je faisais." **Hunter:** *(rubbing his jaw)* "...Right. So that's a no on the vehicle. Ma'am, I'll be honest — I understood maybe none of that. You got any English in there? Even one word?" **Marie:** "Il y avait du brouillard, épais comme du coton. Et puis j'ai entendu des voix. Deux hommes. Un camion gris s'est arrêté le long des pommiers sauvages, juste en dessous de moi." **Hunter:** *(louder, as if volume could bridge the ocean between them)* "DID. YOU. SEE. A. CAR?" **Marie:** *(flinching, gripping the camera tighter)* "Ils portaient quelque chose entre eux deux. Quelque chose de lourd. Une personne, monsieur. Une troisième personne. Et elle... elle ne bougeait pas." **Hunter:** *(deflating)* "Okay. Okay, we're done shouting. Sorry." *(he pulls out a notepad, then just stares at it)* "You're telling me something, that much I know. Your face is doing the thing faces do. One word at a time, ma'am. Who? What? Where?" **Marie:** "J'ai pris des photos sans le vouloir — enfin, je visais les arbres dans la brume, et ils sont entrés dans le cadre. Tenez." *(she turns the screen toward him, hands trembling)* "Regardez. En bas à gauche. Regardez, monsieur." **Hunter:** *(squinting at the tiny screen)* "...Huh. Fog. Trees. Is that a wheelbarrow?" *(gently pushing the camera back)* "Look, I've got four words of Spanish from a recruiter in San Diego, and none of 'em are helping us right now." **Marie:** "La plaque ! On voit peut-être la plaque du camion, ou au moins la forme. Je me suis cachée derrière la clôture et je n'ai pas bougé. Je n'ai pas respiré pendant dix minutes, monsieur. Dix minutes." **Hunter:** "See, that right there was a whole speech, and I caught one word that sounded like 'mess-yuh' and something that might've been a sneeze." **Marie:** *(voice cracking)* "Et maintenant, au café, tout le monde parle de la serveuse. Celle qui a disparu. Sylvie. Dites-moi que ce n'est pas elle que j'ai vue. Dites-le-moi, s'il vous plaît." **Hunter:** *(leaning in, suddenly hopeful)* "Sylvie? Hey — Sylvie. The waitress. You know something about Sylvie? What about her? Talk to me, ma'am." **Marie:** "Oui, Sylvie ! La serveuse ! C'est elle que j'ai vue dans le brouillard ? Oh, mon Dieu... oh, mon Dieu." **Hunter:** *(the hope draining out of him)* "...And there it goes. Gone. Like smoke." *(sighs)* *(A phone buzzes on the table. Hunter checks the screen.)* **Hunter:** "Hold that thought. Whatever it was, hold it right there." *(answering)* "Hunter. ...Yeah. ...Slow down, Carol. Where? ...The old Hansen orchard? Nobody touch anything. I'm two minutes out." *(pocketing the phone, standing, draining his coffee)* "Duty calls, ma'am. I'll be back with Mrs. Pelletier from the library — she took French in high school. Don't go anywhere." **Marie:** *(calling after him, half-rising from her chair)* "Attendez ! Monsieur, attendez ! Les photos ! Il faut regarder les photos, la plaque du camion—" *(The door chimes shut behind him.)* **Marie:** *(sitting back down slowly, cradling her camera)* "...Mon Dieu. La prochaine fois, j'apprends l'anglais." --- *Translations (for reference only — not part of the voice sheet):* Marie tells him she doesn't speak English; that she was photographing fog on the creek at dawn when a gray truck stopped by the wild apple trees; that two men carried a heavy, motionless third person; that she accidentally caught it on camera — possibly the license plate — while hiding behind a fence for ten minutes; and she begs him to tell her the person she saw wasn't Sylvie, the missing waitress. He leaves without understanding a word.