Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KCQFZ1PRKA0XKV3V8GN85C

**INT. MAIN STREET CAFÉ – DAY** The café is quiet, the afternoon light falling in soft squares across checkered tablecloths. MARIE sits alone by the window, gently turning her camera over in her hands, studying the last photo she took—a blurred, wind-tossed orchard. HUNTER enters, scans the room, and settles at her table. --- Marie: *(looks up, startled)* Oh—bonjour. Hunter: Morning. Mind if I sit? You’re the girl with the camera, right? The one who was out near the old quarry last Tuesday. Marie: *(tilts her head, uncertain)* Je... je ne comprends pas. Anglais? Hunter: *(sighs, pulls out a notepad)* Right. Look, I’m Detective Hunter. There’s been some strange stuff happening around town—folks gone missing. You were out there taking pictures, and I need to know what you saw. Marie: *(nervously, holding the camera to her chest)* Vous parlez... lentement? S’il vous plaît? Hunter: Slow? Yeah, okay. I’ll try. *(enunciates)* You. Were. At. The. Quarry. Marie: *(her eyes widen)* Le quarry? Oui. The... oui. Je prenais des photos. *(she gestures with the camera)* La forêt. Le vent. *(her voice drops)* Et puis... Hunter: And then? What happened? Marie: *(suddenly shaking, her words spilling out in a torrent)* J’ai vu un homme. Il était près des arbres. Il ne bougeait pas, comme une statue. Et puis... il y avait une odeur, une odeur sucrée, comme les fleurs, mais ce n’était pas normal. J’ai crié, mais il a disparu. Et le silence—le silence était si lourd, je ne pouvais plus respirer. *(she looks at him, her eyes glassy)* Je pense que j’ai vu quelque chose que je n’aurais pas dû voir. Hunter: *(blank, frustrated)* Okay... that’s a lot of French. I got "homme"—man—and maybe "fleurs"? Flowers? Was there a guy? A man in the woods? Marie: *(nods vigorously, grateful for any connection)* Oui! Oui! Un homme. *(she holds up her camera, showing him a photo of the treeline, a dark shape half-hidden among the trunks)* Il était là. Là! Hunter: *(takes the camera, studies the image, his jaw tightens)* Yeah. That’s not a tree. That’s a person. You got a good shot of him. *(he looks up)* What else? Did he say anything? Do anything? Marie: *(fumbling, trying to find words)* Il... il avait un chapeau? *(she mimics a wide brim)* Et... une montre. Il regardait sa montre. *(she taps her wrist)* et puis—*(she makes a shushing motion, finger to lips)*—il a fait ça. Puis il est parti. Hunter: A hat. A watch. And he shushed you. *(writes it down)* That’s something. That’s more than we had. Marie: *(a flicker of hope)* Vous... comprenez? Hunter: Not really. But I get the gist. You’re scared, and you should be. This guy might be connected to the disappearances. *(he pulls out a card and slides it across the table)* This is my number. If you remember anything else—anything—you call. Even if you have to say it in French, I’ll find someone to translate. Marie: *(picks up the card, her fingers trembling)* Merci. Merci beaucoup. Hunter: Yeah, well—*(his phone buzzes; he checks it and frowns)* I gotta go. Another lead. *(he stands, hesitates, then adds more gently)* Stay inside for a while, okay? Don’t go back to the quarry alone. Marie: *(nods, hugging her camera)* Je comprends. ... Je resterai. Hunter: Good. *(he pauses at the door, gives her one last look, then steps out into the afternoon light)* --- **FADE OUT.**