Here is the scene written as a voice sheet. *** **Isabella:** *(A quiet, shaky sigh. The soft click of a button on her camera is heard.)* **Hunter:** *(Approaching the table, his voice is calm but firm)* Excuse me, miss. Ma’am? **Isabella:** *(Looks up, startled. Her eyes are wide with residual fear. She clutches her camera to her chest.)* Mi scusi? **Hunter:** I’m Detective Hunter, Alborn Police. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about what happened down by Miller’s Creek yesterday. **Isabella:** *(Her brow furrows in confusion. She shakes her head slowly.)* Non capisco. Non parlo inglese. Mi dispiace. (I don't understand. I don't speak English. I'm sorry.) **Hunter:** *(A slight pause. He squints, processing.)* Right. Uh... Police? *(He points to the badge on his belt.)* Detective. Hunter. **Isabella:** *(Her eyes follow his finger to the badge. Her posture tenses, a flicker of alarm crossing her face.)* Polizia? Perché? Cosa è successo? Oddio... è per quell'uomo? (Police? Why? What happened? Oh god... is it because of that man?) **Hunter:** *(Looks completely lost. He holds up his hands in a placating gesture.)* Woah, easy there. I don't... I don't understand what you're saying. Look. *(He pulls a folded photo of a smiling, elderly woman from his jacket pocket and places it on the table.)* This woman. Eleanor Vance. Did you see her? Yesterday? **Isabella:** *(Her breath catches in her throat. She stares at the photo, then back at Hunter, her face pale. She nods frantically.)* Sì! Sì, la donna! L'ho vista! Stavo scattando delle foto... lei era lì, vicino al ponte. Oh, mio Dio, sembrava così... preoccupata. (Yes! Yes, the woman! I saw her! I was taking pictures... she was there, near the bridge. Oh my God, she looked so... worried.) **Hunter:** *(Leans in, his voice softer, recognizing her distress.)* You saw her. Okay. Good. That's good. Can you show me? Where? *(He makes a pointing gesture, looking around the cafe.)* **Isabella:** *(Understanding the gesture, she shakes her head and taps her camera.)* No, no. Qui. *(She quickly begins clicking through the images on her camera's small screen.)* Stavo fotografando il paesaggio. I salici, la luce del mattino era perfetta... e poi... ecco. (I was photographing the landscape. The willows, the morning light was perfect... and then... here.) **Hunter:** *(He leans over to see the small screen. He sees a beautiful shot of a weeping willow, and then another. He’s about to get impatient when she stops on one.)* Okay, what am I looking at? **Isabella:** *(Her finger trembles as she points to a figure in the background of the stunning photo. It's Eleanor Vance, looking over her shoulder.)* Lei. E poi... aspetti. *(She clicks to the next photo. The framing is slightly different. Eleanor is gone, but in the shadows under the bridge, a man in a dark coat is visible, staring directly at the camera.)* Quello. L'uomo. Mi ha spaventata. Ho messo via la macchina fotografica e sono corsa via. Aveva... un'aura terribile. (Her. And then... wait. That one. The man. He scared me. I put my camera away and ran. He had... a terrible aura.) **Hunter:** *(His eyes lock onto the image of the man. His entire demeanor shifts. The no-nonsense detective is back, his focus absolute.)* Hold on. Stay right there. Who is that? Did you see where he went? **Isabella:** *(She's shaking her head, tears welling in her eyes, not understanding his words but understanding his intensity.)* Non lo so! Non lo so, sono andata via, mi dispiace! Sembrava un'ombra, un fantasma... (I don't know! I don't know, I left, I'm sorry! He seemed like a shadow, a ghost...) **Hunter:** *(His phone starts ringing, a harsh, sudden noise. He glances at the caller ID and his expression hardens. He answers it, his eyes still fixed on the camera screen.)* Hunter... Yeah... Where?... Under the bridge at Miller's? Confirming it's a personal effect? Understood. I'm five minutes out. *(He hangs up.)* **Hunter:** *(He looks at Isabella, his expression a mix of urgency and apology. He points to her camera, then to himself.)* Camera. Me. I need... need this. Evidence. **Isabella:** *(She looks from his urgent face to the photo of the terrifying man on her screen. She understands. She slowly, hesitantly, holds the camera out to him.)* La... la troverete? La donna? (Will... will you find her? The woman?) **Hunter:** *(He takes the camera gently. He meets her gaze and gives a single, sharp nod, a promise he can't put into words.)* I have to go. Don't... don't leave town. Please. *(He turns and strides out of the cafe without looking back.)* **Isabella:** *(Watching him leave, she wraps her arms around herself, whispering into the quiet of the cafe.)* Spero che la trovi. Spero che stia bene... (I hope he finds her. I hope she's okay...)