MARIBEL: WHAT’S THE REST OF THE STORY?
Written by Daniel Jordan
Cinematic Realism • PG-13 • 5–6 pages
FADE IN:
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM – CHILD ADVOCACY CENTER – DAY
A small, sterile room. Two-way mirror. Box of tissues. Plastic cup of water sweating on the
table.
MARIBEL (11) sits in a too-big chair. Shoulders tight. A scuffed stuffed bear in her lap. A
faint HUM of HVAC fills the silence.
The door opens. DETECTIVE HARRIS (50s), rumpled suit, kind eyes that have seen too
much, steps in with two paper cups.
Behind him, MRS. ALVAREZ (40s), social worker, gentle and steady. She carries a manila
folder and a thin spiral sketch pad.
Harris sets a cup down near Maribel. Doesn’t push it closer.
HARRIS
Morning, Maribel.
Maribel nods, barely.
Mrs. Alvarez sits—not opposite, but beside, angled toward Maribel, a respectful distance.
MRS. ALVAREZ
We can stop anytime, okay? We go slow. Your pace.
A beat.
Harris sits. He keeps his hands folded. When he speaks, it’s soft.
HARRIS
Maribel… what’s the rest of the story?
Silence. The hum. A faint SQUEAK as Maribel rubs the bear’s ear.
Mrs. Alvarez slides the sketch pad across the table. A box of dull crayons follows.
MRS. ALVAREZ
Maybe we draw a little. Anything you like.
Maribel’s eyes flick down. She chooses a gray crayon.
She draws a rectangle. A line. A smaller rectangle. A door.
INT. OBSERVATION ROOM – CONTINUOUS
A cramped space behind the glass. A FORENSIC NURSE and a YOUNG OFFICER stand
quiet, watching. The nurse takes notes with clinical care.
Genres:
["Drama","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
2 -
A Fragile Connection
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM – CONTINUOUS
Harris clocks the door on the page. He doesn’t ask yet. He waits.
HARRIS (gentle)
You’re safe here.
A flinch at the word “safe.” She switches to black. Colors in the door.
MRS. ALVAREZ
Would you like a different crayon?
Maribel shakes her head.
HARRIS
Okay.
A long beat. Harris sips his coffee. Winces; it’s cold. He hides it.
Maribel draws a little sun in the corner. Then she presses the gray hard over it, smudging it
out.
HARRIS
(quiet)
Can you tell me who lives behind that door?
No answer.
Mrs. Alvarez leans, whispers:
MRS. ALVAREZ
We believe you. No matter what.
Maribel’s hand tightens on the crayon until the paper TEARS. She freezes, ashamed.
HARRIS
Hey. Happens to me all the time.
He reaches into his pocket. Produces a small roll of clear tape. Slides it to her.
She looks at him, surprised. She tapes the torn page with careful, trembling hands.
Genres:
["Drama","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
3 -
Silent Struggles
INT. HALLWAY – INTERCUT
A CORRIDOR of closed doors. A janitor’s cart. A far-off PHONE RING. The world goes on,
indifferent.
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM – LATER
The drawing has grown: a house now. Windows. A basement hatch penciled dark.
Harris lets the new detail sit in the air.
HARRIS
Basements can be… loud when the heater kicks on.
Maribel’s jaw twitches. She colors the hatch darker.
Mrs. Alvarez pulls a small sticker sheet from her folder. Stars and hearts.
MRS. ALVAREZ
Sometimes I put a star by the hardest part. So I know where to breathe.
She places the sheet near Maribel without insisting. Maribel doesn’t take one.
HARRIS
(soft)
Maribel… what’s the rest of the story?
Maribel’s throat works. She draws a stick figure near the hatch. Then a second. One is
small.
She puts the crayon down. Hands shake in her lap.
MRS. ALVAREZ
We can stop. We can take a break.
Maribel shakes her head no.
MARIBEL
(so quiet it’s almost air)
He said…
(beat)
He said if I told, nobody would believe me.
Harris’s eyes flick to the mirror, catch his own reflection—tired, powerless.
HARRIS
I believe you.
A beat.
MARIBEL
He says… I lie like my mom.
Mrs. Alvarez shares the tiniest glance with Harris: noted.
HARRIS
Where is Mom today?
Maribel shrugs. A protective numbness.
MRS. ALVAREZ
You did nothing wrong.
Maribel nods as if agreeing to a statement she can’t feel.
Genres:
["Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
4 -
Unveiling Shadows
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM – MOMENTS LATER
Maribel takes a blue crayon. On the house, she adds a small window with bars. Not real
bars—just crayon lines—but they feel heavy.
HARRIS
Bars?
Maribel taps the page twice. Hesitates. Puts the crayon down, picks up brown. Draws a
shovel shape. A mound.
Mrs. Alvarez stops breathing for a second.
Harris doesn’t move.
HARRIS
(whisper)
Maribel… what’s the rest of the story?
Maribel pulls her knees up to the chair. The bear is crushed to her chest.
MARIBEL
He made me…
(beat)
help with the dirt.
The room tilts a fraction. Harris anchors himself to the table edge.
HARRIS
Where was the dirt?
Maribel stares at the paper. Her finger taps the basement hatch. Tap. Tap.
MRS. ALVAREZ
You’re safe. You’re brave.
MARIBEL
There’s a smell in the summer. He says it’s the pipes. He says don’t say nothing.
INT. OBSERVATION ROOM – CONTINUOUS
The forensic nurse sets her pen down. The young officer swallows hard, looks away.
Genres:
["Drama","Crime","Psychological"]
Ratings
Scene
5 -
A Fragile Heart
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM – CONTINUOUS
Harris keeps his voice even.
HARRIS
Did you ever see… anyone go down there and not come back?
Maribel looks at the drawing. She draws a third stick figure at the edge of the page. A small
heart over it. She presses too hard; the paper almost tears again.
MRS. ALVAREZ
Who’s that?
Maribel’s lips barely move.
MARIBEL
Nina.
Harris writes the name down, small, on his notepad, as if afraid to hurt it.
HARRIS
How old is Nina?
Maribel holds up two fingers, then three, unsure. Small.
Her eyes brim. She pushes the drawing away.
MARIBEL
(pleading)
Can we stop now?
Mrs. Alvarez is already moving, sliding the pad aside, hands visible, slow.
MRS. ALVAREZ
Yes. Yes, we can stop.
She offers a tissue. Maribel takes it but doesn’t use it. She grips it like a flag.
Harris stands. Not abruptly. He nods once.
HARRIS
You did good.
Genres:
["Drama","Crime","Psychological"]
Ratings
Scene
6 -
Cold Hallway Reflections
INT. HALLWAY – MOMENTS LATER
Harris and Mrs. Alvarez step out, the door closing quietly behind them. The hallway feels
colder.
HARRIS
(under his breath)
Basement. Hatch. Nina.
Mrs. Alvarez’s voice is barely there.
MRS. ALVAREZ
We shouldn’t have asked about Mom yet.
HARRIS
We didn’t. She brought her in herself.
(then, softer)
He got to her words before we did.
Mrs. Alvarez nods, eyes glassy but dry. Professional sorrow.
MRS. ALVAREZ
We call CPS for the removal order. Emergency warrant for the house. We—
(stops herself)
I’ll stay with her.
HARRIS
I’ll get the judge.
He moves down the hall. His steps are steady until they aren’t. He stops by a vending
machine. Fishes for quarters. Fails. Puts his forehead to the cool glass. Breathes.
Genres:
["Drama","Crime","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
7 -
Silent Fears
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM – SAME
Maribel sits alone a moment. The drawing in front of her. She peels a gold star sticker from
the sheet, hands shaking, and places it on the basement hatch.
She takes the tape again and reinforces the tear she made earlier, smoothing it tenderly.
The door opens. Mrs. Alvarez slips back inside with a light blanket. She places it around
Maribel’s shoulders. Maribel doesn’t react at first. Then leans a hair into the warmth.
MRS. ALVAREZ
Would you like to sit somewhere softer? There’s a room with pillows.
Maribel shakes her head. Eyes on the drawing.
MARIBEL
If I sleep… will he be mad?
A knife of silence.
MRS. ALVAREZ
He doesn’t get to be near you here.
Maribel nods, unsure she believes it. She squeezes the bear until its seams protest.
INT. COURTHOUSE STAIRWELL – DAY
Harris climbs quickly, winded. He checks a crumpled paper—Judge Klein, chambers 3B.
At the landing, he stops. Looks out a small window to the winter light. Pale sun, no warmth.
He rubs a spot on his chest where a badge used to feel heavier.
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM – LATER
The sketch pad now shows a second page. Maribel has drawn a kitchen table. Two bowls.
No people.
She draws an empty chair. Then draws herself in the doorway, small.
MRS. ALVAREZ
Is that your kitchen?
Maribel nods.
MRS. ALVAREZ
Who usually sits there?
Maribel taps both bowls. Doesn’t answer.
A small CLOCK on the wall ticks loud for a moment.
Genres:
["Drama","Psychological Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
8 -
A Safe Place
INT. COURTHOUSE – JUDGE’S CHAMBERS – DAY
A cramped office. Papers. A dying plant. JUDGE KLEIN (60s) signs an order; Harris stands,
hat in hand he didn’t bring, because habits don’t die.
JUDGE KLEIN
You think there’s immediate risk?
HARRIS
Yes, Your Honor.
JUDGE KLEIN
Then don’t bring me bodies. Bring me the girl safe and the house secured.
She hands him the signed EMERGENCY WARRANT and REMOVAL ORDER.
HARRIS
Yes, ma’am.
He takes them. His hand shakes.
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM – EVENING
Lights dimmer now. The hum has a colder edge.
Harris steps back in, papers tucked away. He stops at the threshold—sees Maribel under
the blanket, her bear, the careful drawing.
He sits. The chair’s metal LEG SQUEAKS. He winces.
HARRIS
We’re going to go somewhere else tonight. Somewhere with a bed that’s not in that house.
(beat)
Is there anything you need from home?
Maribel thinks. Long. She shakes her head—then stops.
MARIBEL
There’s a jar. In my closet.
HARRIS
What’s in the jar?
MARIBEL
Pennies. For a bus. In case.
The words hang like frost.
Harris swallows.
HARRIS
We’ll bring the jar.
A quiet nod.
HARRIS
(softer, more a vow than a question)
Maribel… what’s the rest of the story?
She stares at the drawing. Touches the gold star over the hatch.
MARIBEL
I don’t want to say it out loud.
HARRIS
You don’t have to. Not today.
He turns the sketch pad toward him. Studies the lines like a map.
HARRIS
We’ll go look. We’ll listen to the ground. We’ll let the house tell us.
Maribel’s face crumples—quiet, shame-proof tears. No sob, just overflow. Mrs. Alvarez is
there with a tissue, not wiping, just offering.
MRS. ALVAREZ
We’ll be with you. Every step.
EXT. MARIBEL’S HOUSE – NIGHT
Streetlights carve long shadows. The house from the drawing is here, real. Squad cars idle
without sirens. Officers move like ghosts.
Harris stands at the curb, the warrant in his coat. He looks at the basement hatch by the
side yard. It’s exactly where she drew it.
He breathes steam. The winter air refuses to warm.
Genres:
["Drama","Crime","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
9 -
Whispers of the Past
INT. CHILD ADVOCACY CENTER – QUIET ROOM – NIGHT
A softer room. Low light. Pillows. A cheap mural of clouds.
Maribel lies curled on a couch, blanket tucked under her chin. Mrs. Alvarez sits in a corner
chair, knitting something small, the needles a whisper.
The sketch pad rests on a side table. On the top page, the house now has, in a child’s
uncertain hand, a small open door with light sketched inside—but the light is pale, thin. It
doesn’t reach the yard.
Maribel’s eyes are open in the dim. She is listening for footsteps that do not come.
EXT. MARIBEL’S HOUSE – NIGHT
Harris watches as an officer PRIES at the basement hatch. Wood splinters. The smell of old
earth rises. Everyone goes still.
We don’t go down. We stay with Harris, on his face, as he knows.
His breath stutters. He turns away, toward the dark yard, and speaks to no one:
HARRIS
(hoarse)
Kids shouldn’t have stories like this.
His phone vibrates. A message from Mrs. Alvarez: “She’s awake. Asked if you found the jar.”
He types back with clumsy hands: “We found it. Keep the penny safe for her.”
He pockets the phone. Looks at the open hatch.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
10 -
Unanswered Stories
INT. QUIET ROOM – NIGHT
Maribel sits up. Mrs. Alvarez is beside her, instantly.
MARIBEL
Is it over?
A beat heavy enough to bend the air.
MRS. ALVAREZ
Tonight, you don’t have to tell any more of it.
Maribel nods. She stares at the drawing with the open door. Her hand hovers, wanting to
draw more light, but she doesn’t.
She peels one last gold star and, after a long thought, places it not on the house, not on the
hatch—
—she places it on the empty chair at the kitchen table on page two.
She lies back down. Eyes open. The room hums.
EXT. MARIBEL’S HOUSE – NIGHT
Harris stands alone in the yard. Blue and red lights flicker on frost. He takes out a penny
from a small evidence bag—the top coin from the jar. He rolls it across his knuckles, a ritual
he doesn’t deserve.
He looks toward the dark window. The open hatch.
Then he closes his fist on the coin.
INT. QUIET ROOM – NIGHT
Maribel’s eyes finally close. Not sleep—just surrender.
Off her face—
CUT TO BLACK.
OVER BLACK:
HARRIS (V.O.)
Maribel… what’s the rest of the story?
A long, pained silence. No answer.
FADE OUT.
END.