Run: 2026-03-18-01KM0AD22WVQ76Q1CX43C18VM1

**Voice Sheet: Isabella & Hunter** *(Scene: A quiet afternoon at "The Apple Blossom Café" in Alborn, MN. Isabella sits at a corner table, her camera resting beside her as she stares pensively at the window. The hum of the town is faintly audible. Hunter enters, scanning the room briefly before making his way over.)* --- **Hunter:** *(sliding into the chair across from her, brushing off snowflakes from his jacket)* Afternoon. You speak English? **Isabella:** *(blinking, flustered—lifting her head)* No. *(gestures vaguely, shakes head)* English… no. **Hunter:** *(grunting, unfazed)* Great. Well, I’m Detective Hunter. I’m looking into that missing persons case—the woman who vanished last night near the old mill. Seen anything unusual around here lately? **Isabella:** *(nervously gripping her camera, voice shaky in Italian)* Non capisco... *(frowns, then tries English again weakly)* Camera... I take pictures. Nature. Around town. **Hunter:** *(leaning in slightly, tone direct)* Any photos of the mill? Or near there? **Isabella:** *(hesitates, glances at camera, then back at him—Italian, tense)* Io... ho visto qualcosa. *(She swallows hard.)* Una figura. Ma non è chiara. *(shakes head)* Non so. **Hunter:** *(frowning, arms crossed)* Could you repeat that in English? **Isabella:** *(flustered, blending Italian and broken English)* It... I saw a figure. Near the mill. Dark. But unclear. In the trees. *(her voice trembles slightly)* I was scared. **Hunter:** *(softening slightly, nodding)* You got a photo of this figure? Even blurry? **Isabella:** *(hesitates, then cautiously unzips her camera bag, pulls out a photo—grainy and dark)* Like this? But... *(Italian, urgent)* Non ho detto a nessuno. **Hunter:** *(examining the photo, stiffens slightly)* That’s helpful. Where’d you take this? **Isabella:** *(gently, pointing north)* Down the road. By the old oak. Before the mill. **Hunter:** *(suddenly distracted—his phone buzzes; checks it, curses softly under his breath)* Look, I gotta take this. But I might need to talk to you again. After this call. *(he stands, pulls out a card, places it on the table)* Call me. English or not. I’ll find someone to translate. *(He starts walking away, putting the phone to his ear.)* **Isabella:** *(calling after him softly in Italian, worried)* Aspetta... *(wait)* **Hunter:** *(pausing, turning back briefly, confused)* What? **Isabella:** *(hesitant, then in careful English)* Be careful. Near the mill. *(she shivers, hugs herself slightly)* **Hunter:** *(stares at her a moment, then nods once—gruffly)* Appreciate it. *(He turns and strides out, the café door chiming as it swings shut behind him. Isabella exhales shakily, wrapping her arms around herself, then takes a deep breath and picks up her camera again, snapping a photo of the empty chair opposite her—her hands are still trembling slightly.)* ---