Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DABR04H8GVHVR6G6G553T6

**VOICE SHEET: "The Orchard Photographs"** *Scene: A corner cafe on Main Street, Alborn, MN. Early October. Marie sits alone at a window table, a camera in her lap. Hunter approaches. Marie speaks only French. Hunter speaks only English. Translations of Marie's lines appear in brackets for the director and are not spoken.* --- **Hunter:** "Excuse me. Ma'am? Detective Hunter, Alborn Police. I'm looking into what happened out at Kessler's orchard last Saturday. You were out there with that camera, right? The waitress said you've been in town a couple of weeks." **Marie:** "Pardon, je ne comprends pas... Vous êtes policier? Il y a quelque chose qui ne va pas?" [Sorry, I don't understand... You're a police officer? Is something wrong?] **Hunter:** *(pauses, smiles tightly)* "Okay. Let's try this. Orchard. Saturday. Kessler's place. You were there?" **Marie:** "Le verger... oui. J'étais là-bas à l'aube. J'ai pris des photos des arbres, de la brume. Puis..." *(her voice catches)* "Puis j'ai vu quelque chose, et je ne peux pas l'oublier." [The orchard... yes. I was there at dawn. I took photos of the trees, the mist. Then... I saw something, and I can't forget it.] **Hunter:** "Whoa, hey. Easy. You're shaking." *(he slides into the chair across from her, slowly)* "Take a breath. Nobody's in trouble here. Did you see Dale Kessler? Anybody with him?" **Marie:** "Je ne connais pas ce nom. Il y avait un homme, près du hangar. Il portait une veste rouge. Et la voiture... elle n'avait pas de plaque." *(she taps the camera screen, then turns it toward him)* "Regardez." [I don't know that name. There was a man, near the barn. He wore a red jacket. And the car... it had no license plate. Look.] **Hunter:** *(leaning in, squinting at the screen)* "Okay, that's a... that's a truck. Maybe a tractor? And that's a guy. Red jacket, got it." *(he looks up, frowning)* "Ma'am, I need you to slow down. Do you have someone who speaks English? A friend? Anybody?" **Marie:** "Mon amie Claire parle anglais, mais elle est à Chicago. Pourquoi vous ne parlez pas français? Tout le monde en Europe parle au moins un peu..." *(she gives a small, exhausted laugh)* "Désolée. Je suis fatiguée. Je n'ai pas dormi depuis samedi." [My friend Claire speaks English, but she's in Chicago. Why don't you speak French? Everyone in Europe speaks at least a little... Sorry. I'm tired. I haven't slept since Saturday.] **Hunter:** *(rubbing the back of his neck)* "Yeah. Okay. Well, I don't speak French, so this is going great." *(he pulls a notepad from his jacket and holds it up)* "Can you write it down? Name, phone number. Anything. Or draw me the car?" **Marie:** *(hesitates, then pulls a pen from her bag and writes slowly, her hand trembling)* "Voilà. Marie Lefèvre. Mon numéro. Et... ce n'est pas un accident, je le sais. Je l'ai senti dans mes mains." *(She taps the notepad.)* [Here. Marie Lefèvre. My number. And... it wasn't an accident, I know it. I felt it in my hands.] **Hunter:** *(reading the notepad, then looking up sharply)* "Wait. You're saying it wasn't an accident? Okay. I'm listening, but you're going to have to help me, because I've got nothing here but a phone number and a red jacket." **Marie:** *(she slides the camera across the table toward him, her voice low)* "Regardez les photos. Vous comprendrez. Pas moi. Vous." [Look at the photos. You'll understand. Not me. You.] **Hunter:** *(his phone buzzes loudly on the table. He glances at the screen, then at Marie, then back at the screen.)* "Ah, come on. Hang on." *(He answers.)* "Hunter. ...Yeah. ...No, I'm at the cafe. ...How long ago? ...Okay. Okay. I'm on my way." *(He hangs up and stands, pocketing the phone. He picks up a business card from his jacket and sets it on the table beside the camera.)* **Hunter:** "Ma'am, I've got to go. Something just came up on the county road. This is my card. Don't go back out to Kessler's alone, you hear me? Keep that camera somewhere safe, and don't delete anything." *(He points at the camera, then at his own eyes, then at her.)* "Understand? Not one picture." **Marie:** *(standing, gathering the camera to her chest, speaking more to herself than to him)* "Vous ne comprenez rien, n'est-ce pas? Rien du tout." *(a sad, almost fond smile)* "Mais vous avez l'air de quelqu'un qui écoute. C'est déjà quelque chose." [You don't understand anything, do you? Nothing at all. But you look like someone who listens. That's already something.] **Hunter:** *(already at the door, glancing back)* "Sure. Thanks for the coffee that I didn't order. Call me if you remember anything else. Even if it's in French." *(The bell over the cafe door chimes as he exits. Marie sits back down, holding the camera, and quietly flips it open to the last photograph.)* **END SCENE**