Run: 2026-03-12-01KKHZQNETCEQ6KTRYCS3C717A

**Scene:** The cozy corner of the Main Street Cafe in Alborn, MN was filled with the warm scent of cinnamon apple cider and fresh pastries. Isabella sat by the window, her dark hair falling over one shoulder as she scrolled through the photos on her camera. The images of the orchard during last weekend’s apple festival had seemed peaceful when she took them. Now they made her hands tremble. Heavy footsteps approached. Hunter, still in his worn leather jacket from the morning patrol, stopped at her table. He had heard the Italian exchange student had been photographing the festival the day the latest person vanished. Hunter: "Excuse me, miss. I’m Detective Hunter. I understand you were taking pictures at the apple festival last weekend. Did you see anything unusual? Anything at all that might help with the disappearances?" Isabella looked up, her face pale and troubled. She clutched her camera tighter and answered in a shaky rush of Italian. Isabella: "Mi dispiace, non parlo inglese… Ho visto una cosa terribile! Un uomo stava camminando vicino agli alberi di mele e poi è semplicemente… scomparso. Tremavo così tanto che riuscivo a malapena a tenere la macchina fotografica. Non so cosa fare!" Hunter stared at her, clearly lost. He rubbed the back of his neck. Hunter: "Right… I don’t speak a word of Italian. English? Do you understand English? The missing man—did you see him? Was anyone with him?" Isabella shook her head, realizing he couldn’t understand. Still frightened, she kept talking, desperate to tell someone. Isabella: "C’era una figura strana nell’ombra, dietro i meli. L’ho fotografata per caso. Sembra quasi che… non sia una persona normale. Ho paura che sia successo di nuovo, e non so a chi mostrarlo!" Hunter: "Okay, slow down. I can see you’re upset. Camera? You keep pointing at the camera. Did you take pictures of something? Can you show me?" Isabella understood the word “camera” and turned the screen toward him, pointing at a blurry shadow in the background of one of her landscape shots. Isabella: "Guardi qui! Questa ombra… non dovrebbe esserci. Sono ancora tutta scossa, non riesco a dormire da quella notte." Hunter leaned closer, studying the photo even though he had no idea what she was saying. Hunter: "That shadow does look off. I wish I knew what you were telling me. We’ve had three people disappear in two weeks and you were right there. If only we spoke the same language…" They continued for several more minutes—Isabella speaking rapidly in Italian and gesturing at her camera, Hunter responding in clear, patient English and occasionally pointing at the screen. The language barrier was obvious, yet both were trying. Isabella’s hands still shook slightly as she showed him different photos. Suddenly Hunter’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting to full detective mode. Hunter: "This is Hunter. Yeah… Another one? I’m two minutes away. I’ll be right there." He ended the call and looked back at Isabella with an apologetic nod. Hunter: "I have to go. Stay safe, okay? Lock your doors. And… thank you, I think. We’ll figure this out somehow." Isabella watched him leave, clutching her camera to her chest, the weight of what she had witnessed still heavy on her shoulders.