FADE IN: EXT. ROUTE 1, COASTAL MAINE, BEFORE DAWN Dark. Then headlights, and a stripe of wet asphalt unrolling between two walls of spruce. A grey sedan with municipal plates travels fifty in a fifty five zone. It has been doing that for ninety minutes. INT. CLAIRE'S CAR, CONTINUOUS CLAIRE HARDY (44) drives with both hands on the wheel and her coat still buttoned. The dash vents are turned all the way up at the windshield and the corners of the glass are fogging anyway. On the passenger seat, a soft sided folder four inches thick, banded twice with rubber. The tab is labeled in somebody else's handwriting. POLLARD, ELLEN M. She reaches over without looking and squares the folder against the seat back. It was already square. CLAIRE Ellen Marie Pollard. Date of birth June ninth, nineteen seventy four. She takes a long curve. The trees fall away into a guardrail and, below the guardrail, water the same color as the sky. CLAIRE (CONT'D) Reported missing April fourteenth, nineteen ninety four. Rochester, New Hampshire. Age twenty. A pickup comes the other way. The driver lifts two fingers off the wheel. Claire lifts two fingers back. Neither of them slows down. CLAIRE (CONT'D) Reporting party, Walter Pollard. Father. She stops there. Says the last word again, on its own, testing it first, like a step she is not sure will hold. CLAIRE (CONT'D) Father. Then she is finished, and the car is very quiet for a long time.