Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ05F7W2F90BDMPXZYYWQTW4

# Scene: The Cafe on Main Street --- *The afternoon sun filters through the front window of Rosie's Diner, the only cafe still open past three o'clock on a Tuesday in Alborn. Isabella sits alone at a corner table, cradling her camera in both hands. She scrolls through her photos slowly, her brow furrowed. Her espresso sits untouched, gone cold. She lingers on one particular image — the tree line at the edge of Hargrove's orchard, taken at dusk. Something in the shadows. She shudders and sets the camera down.* *The bell above the door chimes. Detective Hunter Calloway steps in, scanning the room with practiced eyes. He spots Isabella — the only unfamiliar face in town — and approaches her table.* --- **Hunter:** "Excuse me. You're the photography student staying at the bed and breakfast on Elm, right? Hunter Calloway, I'm with the sheriff's department." **Isabella:** *[looks up, startled, clutching her camera tighter]* "Sì... sì, sono io. Isabella. Mi scusi, non... no English." **Hunter:** *[pauses, blinks]* "...English? You don't speak English?" **Isabella:** *[shakes her head quickly, gesturing apologetically with her hands]* "No, no. Io non parlo inglese. Mi dispiace." *[she looks down at the table, embarrassed]* **Hunter:** *[sighs, runs a hand over his jaw]* "Okay. Alright. I'm going to... try here." *[pulls out a chair and sits across from her, speaking slowly and clearly]* "I... need... to ask you... some questions." **Isabella:** *[stares at him, catching only fragments — "need," "questions." She tilts her head, confused]* "Domande? Domande?" *[mimics a questioning gesture with her hands]* **Hunter:** *[nods]* "Questions. Sì." *[catches himself]* "Wait — that one I know." *[reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small notepad, flips it to a page where he's written down one name: TOMMY HARGROVE. He slides it across the table and taps it.]* "Tommy Hargrove. You know him? Seen him?" **Isabella:** *[reads the name, and her expression changes instantly — her face drains of color. Her hands tremble slightly as she pulls her camera back toward her, flipping to the photo she was just studying. She turns the screen toward Hunter, pointing at it with a shaking finger.]* "Io... io l'ho visto. Laggiù. Nel bosco. C'era... c'era qualcosa di sbagliato. Qualcosa di molto sbagliato." *[her voice cracks, and she swallows hard]* "La luce era... come si dice... wrong. Tutto era wrong." *Hunter stares at the camera screen. The photo is beautiful — golden light spilling over rows of apple trees, the distant treeline going dark. But he can't tell what she's pointing at. And he can't understand a single word she's saying.* **Hunter:** *[leaning in, studying the photo carefully]* "I'm sorry — I don't... What am I looking at? Is that the orchard?" **Isabella:** *[frustrated, she pulls the camera back and zooms in on the image, her finger jabbing at the treeline. She speaks rapidly, her Italian tumbling out faster.]* "Guarda! Laggiù! Tra gli alberi! C'era una figura — una persona — qualcuno che guardava. E poi... poi il giorno dopo, ho sentito che Tommy è sparito." *[she pauses, her voice dropping to barely a whisper]* "Ho paura, detective. Io ho veramente paura." **Hunter:** *[sits back, jaw tight. He understood none of it — but he understood the fear. He's seen it before, in places far from small-town Minnesota.]* "You're scared. I can see that." *[he says it quieter now, more gently]* "What did you see out there?" **Isabella:** *[shakes her head, frustrated tears pricking her eyes. She pulls out her phone and opens a translation app, types furiously, and turns the screen to him.]* *The screen reads: "I saw someone in the trees. The day before Tommy disappeared. I took a photo. Something is wrong with this town."* **Hunter:** *[reads it slowly. His expression hardens — not with suspicion, but with the weight of confirmation.]* "...That's what I'm trying to figure out." *[he nods at her phone]* "Can I see the rest of your photos? From that day?" **Isabella:** *[nods, understanding the gesture if not every word. She scrolls to the series of photos from that evening and slides the phone across to him.]* "Ecco. Queste sono le foto di quel giorno. Tutte." *Hunter scrolls through them carefully. Landscapes, mostly — gorgeous, golden-hour shots of the orchard and surrounding woods. Professional quality. And then — he stops. One photo, slightly blurred, as if she'd turned quickly. A dark shape between two trees. Human-shaped.* **Hunter:** *[low, almost to himself]* "Well, that's something." *His phone rings — sharp and sudden, cutting through the quiet cafe. He holds up a finger to Isabella and answers.* **Hunter:** "Calloway." *[a beat. His face changes.]* "When? ...No, I'm at Rosie's. I'll be there in ten." *[he stands, already reaching for his jacket]* "Don't let anyone near it." *He hangs up and looks down at Isabella, who is watching him with wide, anxious eyes.* **Hunter:** *[gestures to the phone on the table]* "I need to go. But I need those photos." *[he pulls out a card and sets it on the table, tapping it twice]* "My number. You call me — or come find me. We'll figure this out." *He hesitates, then adds, more to himself than to her:* **Hunter:** "...Stay away from those woods." *Isabella picks up the card, looks at it, and then at him. She nods once — slowly, deliberately.* **Isabella:** *[quietly, almost a whisper]* "...Stia attento anche lei, detective." *Hunter doesn't understand the words. But something in her tone makes him pause at the door. He glances back. She's already looking down at her camera again, at the dark shape between the trees.* *The bell chimes as he leaves.* --- **Isabella:** "..." **Hunter:** "..." --- *End of scene.*