Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY8B4PVPPMPSJC88NNBX066

**VOICE SHEET: SCENE – THE CAFÉ CONFRONTATION** **Setting:** A quaint, sunlit café in Alborn, MN. The scent of coffee and cinnamon lingers in the air. Isabella sits at a small wooden table, her camera open beside her, her fingers tracing the lens thoughtfully. Hunter, in a rumpled jacket, leans against the table across from her, arms crossed. --- ### **DIALOGUE (Translated for Context – Hunter’s Perspective)** *(Hunter clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. Isabella doesn’t look up from her camera.)* **Hunter:** *(in English, blunt)* "You’re the new girl, right? Study abroad?" *(Isabella flinches. She closes the camera with a sharp *click*. Her hands tremble slightly as she sets it down. She speaks rapidly in Italian, her voice tight with emotion.)* **Isabella:** *(distraught, urgent)* *"No… no, I’m not new. I’ve been here for weeks. And I don’t understand why you’re asking me these things—why you’re looking at me like I did something wrong!"* *(Hunter blinks, confused. He doesn’t speak Italian, so he just stares at her, hands raised in a gesture of surrender.)* **Hunter:** *(frowning)* "I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just trying to figure out what happened to the missing people." **Isabella:** *(voice breaking, gesturing wildly with her hands)* *"You don’t understand! It wasn’t just *people*—it was *photos*! My photos! They were taken—from my camera! And now… now they’re gone!"* *(Hunter’s jaw tightens. He leans forward, suddenly alert.)* **Hunter:** "What do you mean, ‘taken’?" **Isabella:** *(whispering, horrified)* *"They were *stolen*. From my bag. From my room. And then… then they appeared *elsewhere*. In places I’ve never been. In photos I didn’t take!"* *(Hunter exhales sharply, rubbing his temples. He pulls out a notepad and pen, scribbling.)* **Hunter:** "Where were these photos found?" **Isabella:** *(voice trembling, pointing vaguely)* *"In the woods. Near the old mill. And… and in the church basement! Someone was *using* them!"* *(Hunter’s eyes flicker with recognition. He knows the mill and the church—both have been tied to the disappearances.)* **Hunter:** "Did you report this to the police?" **Isabella:** *(bitter, shaking her head)* *"The police? No! They don’t speak my language! And they don’t *care*! They just… they just tell me to ‘watch out for strangers’!"* *(Hunter’s expression darkens. He pulls out his phone, checking a message. His face tightens.)* **Hunter:** *(muttering, to himself)* "Shit." *(Isabella’s head snaps up, alarmed.)* **Isabella:** *(in Italian, frantic)* *"What? What is it?!" **Hunter:** *(without looking at her, already standing)* *"I’ve got to go. But—" *(he pulls a business card from his pocket, scribbles something on the back)* "—call me if you see or hear anything else. *Anything.*" *(He slides the card across the table.)* *(Isabella stares at it, then at him, her eyes wide with fear.)* **Isabella:** *(whispering, desperate)* *"You… you think they’ll come back?"* *(Hunter hesitates, then meets her gaze—serious, grim.)* **Hunter:** "I think someone’s playing a game. And I’m not letting them win." *(He turns and strides toward the door, his voice echoing as he calls over his shoulder—)* **Hunter:** "And *Isabella*?" *(She flinches at her name in English.)* "If you see a man in a dark coat with a camera… *run.*" *(The door swings shut behind him. Isabella sits frozen, the card trembling in her grip, her breath coming fast. Outside, the sound of Hunter’s boots fading into the distance.)* --- **END SCENE.** *(Note: For full immersion, Isabella’s Italian dialogue would be more fluid and emotional, with rapid-fire phrases like *"Non capisci! Non è giusto!"* ("You don’t understand! It’s not fair!") and *"Qualcuno sta usando le mie foto come un’arma!"* ("Someone is using my photos like a weapon!"). Hunter’s confusion would be palpable—he’d likely mutter under his breath in English, *"What the hell is she talking about?"* before realizing her urgency.)*