Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DYDS8X9NB6ZECADG4VJRED

**Scene: The Corner Café, Alborn, MN** *Late afternoon. Marie sits by the window, turning her camera over in her hands. The bell over the door chimes as Hunter enters, scanning the room before walking to her table.* **Hunter:** "Excuse me. Mind if I ask you a few questions? I'm Detective Hunter, with the county. You were out at the Miller orchard last night, right? Near the old packing shed?" **Marie:** "Je suis désolée, je ne... Le hangar. Oui, j'y étais. Il y avait quelqu'un, je crois. Je l'ai vu sur la photo, mais..." *(I'm sorry, I don't... The shed. Yes, I was there. There was someone, I think. I saw him in the photo, but...)* **Hunter:** "Okay. Take your time. Last night, at the orchard. You saw someone?" **Marie:** "Il s'est arrêté, il regardait vers moi. Et puis il a disparu. Comme si la nuit l'avait avalé." *(He stopped, he was looking toward me. And then he vanished. As if the night had swallowed him.)* **Hunter:** *(leans forward, frowning)* "I'm sorry, I'm not following. Did you see Daniel Brooks? He's the one we've been looking for since Tuesday?" **Marie:** "Daniel? Je ne connais pas ce nom. Je ne connais personne ici. Je suis arrivée il y a trois semaines." *(Daniel? I don't know that name. I don't know anyone here. I arrived three weeks ago.)* **Hunter:** "Three weeks. Okay. Look, I need you to slow down, because I'm getting maybe one word in five. Can you show me the photo? Is that what you're holding?" **Marie:** "Oui, c'est la photo. Regardez, je vous en prie. Elle était sombre, mais j'ai zoomé. Là, près des arbres." *(Yes, this is the photo. Please look. It was dark, but I zoomed in. There, by the trees.)* *She turns the camera toward him. He squints at the small screen, tilting his head.* **Hunter:** "That's... a blur. Could be a person. Could be a branch." *(He pauses, then taps the screen gently.)* "Can you send this to me? Or can I borrow the card?" **Marie:** "Je ne comprends pas ce que vous dites. Vous voulez la carte? Non, je ne peux pas la donner. C'est mon travail, mes photos de l'automne." *(I don't understand what you're saying. You want the card? No, I can't give it. It's my work, my autumn photos.)* **Hunter:** *(sighing, rubbing his neck)* "I'm going to take that as a no. Okay. Let's try this. Are you hurt? Are you safe?" **Marie:** *(softly, a little laugh escaping despite herself)* "Je suis en sécurité. Je pense. Mais j'ai peur. Quelque chose ne va pas dans cette ville." *(I'm safe. I think. But I'm scared. Something is wrong in this town.)* **Hunter:** "Scared. Yeah. Me too, honestly, though I'd never say it to a witness." *(He pulls out a notepad and pen, sliding it across the table.)* "Can you write it down? Anything. A name, a time, a word. Even a drawing." *Marie hesitates, then picks up the pen and writes slowly. She stops after a few lines, her hand trembling slightly.* **Marie:** "Voilà. Ce sont les heures. Vers vingt-deux heures, puis vers minuit. Je ne suis pas sûre." *(There. These are the times. Around ten, then around midnight. I'm not sure.)* **Hunter:** *(studying the notepad)* "Ten, then midnight. Okay. That helps. Thank you." *His phone buzzes against the table. He glances at the screen, his expression tightening.* **Hunter:** "I have to take this." *(into the phone)* "Hunter. ...Yeah. ...When? ...Okay. No, don't move him. I'm on my way." *He ends the call and looks back at Marie, who has been watching him with worried eyes.* **Hunter:** "I've got to go. Something's come up." *(He pulls a business card from his jacket and sets it beside her cup.)* "Here's my number. If you remember anything, or if anything else happens, call me. Day or night. Stay somewhere with people around, okay? Lock your door." **Marie:** "Attendez. Vous allez revenir? Je ne sais pas à qui parler ici." *(Wait. Are you coming back? I don't know who to talk to here.)* **Hunter:** *(pausing at the door, pulling on his coat)* "I don't speak French, but I'm guessing you're asking if I'm coming back. Yeah. I'll be back. Count on it." *The bell chimes again as he steps out into the cold evening. Marie picks up the business card, studies it, then looks down at her camera, her thumb resting on the screen.*