# Scene: The Café on Main Street *The morning light filters through the front windows of Birch & Brew, Alborn's only café. Isabella sits alone at a corner table near the window, scrolling through photographs on her camera's display screen — sweeping shots of the Minnesota countryside, the birch trees along the highway, the iron-red soil near the old mine road. A half-finished cappuccino sits cooling beside her. The bell above the door jingles as Hunter walks in, his badge catching the light. He scans the room with practiced efficiency and notices the young woman — a face he hasn't seen before in a town where everyone knows everyone. He approaches her table.* --- Hunter: "Morning, ma'am. I'm Detective Hunter Graves, with the St. Louis County Sheriff's Office. Mind if I sit down for a minute?" Isabella: *looks up from her camera, startled* "Scusi... non capisco. Parla italiano?" Hunter: *pauses, pulling out the chair slowly* "I'm sorry — I didn't catch that. Do you speak English? English?" Isabella: *shakes her head, gesturing apologetically* "No, no... mi dispiace. Non parlo inglese. Solo italiano." Hunter: *sighs and sits down anyway, pulling a small notepad from his coat pocket* "Alright. Well, let me try this anyway." *He flips to a page where he's taped a photograph of a young woman — Karen Whitfield, 28, missing for four days.* "Have you seen this woman? This woman — here, in town?" Isabella: *leans forward and studies the photograph, her face draining of color. She sets down her camera and presses a hand to her mouth.* "Oh Dio... oh Dio mio. Sì. Sì, l'ho vista. L'ho vista quella notte vicino al sentiero, quello dietro la chiesa vecchia. Era... era spaventata. Correva. Ho scattato delle foto ma era buio e avevo paura anch'io." Hunter: *leans in, watching her reaction carefully* "You recognize her. I can see that. You've seen her — where? Where did you see her?" Isabella: *begins flipping frantically through the images on her camera, her hands trembling* "Aspetti, aspetti — forse ho qualcosa... quella sera stavo fotografando il tramonto e poi..." *she stops on a dark, blurry photograph — the outline of a figure running near a tree line* "Ecco! Guardi, guardi qui. Era lei. Ne sono quasi sicura. E c'era qualcun altro... un'ombra dietro di lei. Qualcuno la seguiva." Hunter: *stares at the camera screen, then back at Isabella* "Is that — can I see that? Can you zoom in?" *He makes a pinching gesture with his fingers over the camera screen.* Isabella: *understands the gesture and zooms in with shaking fingers. The image is grainy, but there are clearly two figures — one running, one following at a measured pace.* "Vede? Vede l'altra persona? Quella dietro? La stava seguendo. Io... io volevo gridare ma ero nascosta dietro gli alberi e avevo troppa paura. Non sapevo cosa fare. Mi sento in colpa. Avrei dovuto fare qualcosa." Hunter: *runs a hand over his face* "I have no idea what you're saying, but that photo..." *taps the camera screen gently* "That photo might be the first real lead I've had in four days. I need this. Can I — " *mimes taking the camera, then shakes his head and pulls out his phone instead, snapping a picture of the camera's display* "I'm going to need to get a translator. Stay in town, okay? Stay. In. Town." *points down at the table emphatically* Isabella: *nods slowly, seeming to understand at least his tone* "Sì... sì, resto qui. Ma detective — " *grabs his sleeve lightly* "C'è dell'altro. Quella notte ho sentito un rumore, come una portiera che sbatteva, e poi un motore. E prima ancora... delle voci. Un uomo che gridava. Non dimenticherò mai quel suono. Era rabbioso. Violento." Hunter: "Ma'am, I wish I could understand you. I really do. You clearly know something, and it's eating you up. I can see it." Isabella: *looks down at her hands, her voice dropping to almost a whisper* "Ho paura, detective. Quella persona... quell'ombra nella foto... credo che mi abbia vista. Quando sono corsa via, ho sentito dei passi dietro di me. Mi sono nascosta nel fienile sulla collina e non mi sono mossa fino all'alba." Hunter: *studies her face — the dark circles under her eyes, the way her hands won't stop trembling* "Something happened to you too, didn't it?" *A sharp buzzing breaks the moment. Hunter pulls his phone from his jacket.* Hunter: "Graves." *listens for a long moment, his jaw tightening* "Where? ...The old Lindquist property? I'm on my way." *He stands abruptly, tucking his notepad back into his pocket, then turns to Isabella.* "I have to go. But I'll be back, and I'm bringing someone who speaks your language. Don't leave town. Please." *places his card on the table and taps it twice* "Call me. Telefono. If anything happens." Isabella: *picks up the card, clutching it tightly* "Telefono... sì, capisco. Detective — " *meets his eyes* "Stia attento. Chiunque sia quella persona... non ha paura di niente." Hunter: *holds her gaze for a moment, understanding the warning in her tone if not her words* "Yeah. I hear you." *He turns and pushes through the café door into the cold Minnesota morning. Isabella watches him go, then looks back down at the dark photograph on her camera — the blurred figure, the shadow behind. She closes her eyes and grips the camera like a lifeline.* --- *End of scene.*