Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXPXZ9YW6P7RWC2C504E3MH

**Voice Sheet: Café Encounter in Alborn, MN** *(Isabella sits at a small wrought-iron table outside the café, her fingers tracing the edges of her camera. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the cobblestone street. She glances up as Hunter approaches, his expression serious, his posture rigid. He hesitates before speaking, his voice low and measured.)* **Hunter:** *(clears throat)* "Excuse me, miss. Mind if I sit for a moment?" **Isabella:** *(startled, she looks up and clutches her camera a little tighter. Her voice is soft but urgent, her words tumbling out in rapid Italian)* "Oh—mi scusi, non parlo inglese. Ma… lei è della polizia? Ho visto qualcosa ieri sera, vicino al vecchio frutteto. Era buio, ma ho sentito dei rumori, come se qualcuno stesse trascinando qualcosa. E poi… poi ho visto una luce, come una torcia, ma si è spenta subito. Ho paura che sia collegato a quelle persone scomparse. Dovrei dirlo a qualcuno, ma non so come spiegarlo!" *(She gestures toward her camera, her hands trembling slightly. Her eyes are wide, her brow furrowed with worry. Hunter frowns, clearly not understanding a word, but he picks up on her distress.)* **Hunter:** *(leaning in slightly, voice firm but not unkind)* "Whoa, slow down. I don’t speak Italian. At all. But I *am* with the police. Detective Hunter Cole." *(He flashes his badge briefly.)* "You saw something last night? Near the orchard?" **Isabella:** *(shaking her head, frustrated, switching to halting, heavily accented English)* "No… no English. Scusi. Io… camera." *(She taps the camera meaningfully, then points toward the edge of town, where the old orchard sprawls beyond the last row of houses.)* "Luce. Rumore. Gente… *gone*." **Hunter:** *(nodding slowly, piecing together her gestures)* "You took pictures? Of something near the orchard?" **Isabella:** *(relieved he’s following, she nods eagerly and flips through the photos on her camera’s display. She stops at one—a grainy shot of the orchard at dusk, the trees little more than dark silhouettes. She points to a faint, blurred shape near the edge of the frame, then mimes dragging something heavy.)* "Qui. Non so cosa. Ma… *paura*." *(She shivers, wrapping her arms around herself.)* **Hunter:** *(studying the photo, his jaw tightening)* "This could be something. Can I…?" *(He gestures to the camera, asking to take it.)* **Isabella:** *(hesitates, then nods and hands it over, watching him closely as he zooms in on the image. She bites her lip, then adds in Italian, her voice barely above a whisper)* "Ho paura che sia troppo tardi per loro. Ma forse non per il prossimo." *(Hunter’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and his expression darkens. He hands the camera back to her with a curt nod.)* **Hunter:** "I’ve gotta go. But this—" *(he taps the camera)* "—this is important. Stay here. Don’t go near the orchard alone, got it? I’ll send someone to get a statement. *In English.*" *(He emphasizes the last part, miming writing in the air.)* **Isabella:** *(nodding quickly, clutching the camera to her chest)* "Sì, sì. Grazie. Stia attento." **Hunter:** *(already turning away, phone to his ear)* "Yeah, yeah. You too." *(He pauses, then adds over his shoulder, as if it’s an afterthought.)* "And… learn ‘help’ in English. Just in case." *(Isabella watches him stride off, his long coat flapping behind him. She exhales shakily, then lifts her camera and snaps a photo of his retreating figure—just in case.)*