Run: 2026-05-01-01KQHQW3KK267RQ22M7TVBM1WZ

**Scene:** The afternoon light filtered softly through the windows of the little café on Main Street in Alborn, Minnesota. Isabella sat at a corner table, her dark hair falling over one shoulder as she scrolled through the photos on her camera. The autumn colors from her morning walk around the orchard trails glowed on the small screen. She was so absorbed she didn’t notice the tall, serious-looking man approaching until his shadow fell across her table. Hunter pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down without waiting for an invitation. His sharp eyes studied her for a moment. **Voice Sheet:** Isabella: “...” Hunter: “Excuse me, miss. I’m Detective Hunter with the Alborn PD. I understand you were near the old mill yesterday afternoon. Mind if I ask you a couple of questions about what you might’ve seen?” Isabella: “Mi dispiace… non parlo inglese. Ero solo a fare fotografie… ma ho visto qualcosa di strano vicino al mulino. C’era una luce che non avrebbe dovuto esserci, e poi ho sentito un grido. Quando sono andata a guardare, non c’era più nessuno. Ho paura che sia successo qualcosa di terribile. Non so cosa fare… sono sola qui e non capisco cosa sta succedendo in questa città.” Hunter: “…” Hunter shifted in his seat, brow furrowed in clear confusion. He rubbed the back of his neck, obviously trying to parse the rapid, worried Italian. Isabella: “Per favore… lei è un detective, sì? Ho la foto di quella luce sul mio macchina fotografica. Guardi, guardi qui…” She turned the camera toward him, pointing at a blurry image of an odd glow near the trees. Hunter: “Right… I don’t speak a word of Italian, ma’am. English? Do you speak English? I need to know if you saw the man who disappeared. Tall fellow. Red jacket. Any of this ringing a bell?” Isabella: “Non capisco… ma so che è importante. Sembra preoccupato. Forse dovrei chiamare l’ambasciata? No, no, aspetti. Lei ha l’aria di qualcuno che cerca risposte. Io… io posso mostrarle le foto. Guardi, per favore.” Hunter: “This is going nowhere fast. Look, just… stay in town, okay? Don’t go back to the mill alone. We’ll figure out the language thing later. I’ve got a translator on call—” Isabella: “Detective… per favore, non se ne vada. Ho visto una figura nel bosco dopo il grido. Sembrava… non umana. So che sembra pazzia, ma è la verità.” Hunter’s phone suddenly buzzed loudly on the table. He glanced at the screen, his expression tightening. Hunter: “Damn it. I’ve gotta take this. Stay put. I’ll come back with someone who speaks Italian. Don’t go anywhere.” He stood up quickly, giving her one last frustrated but determined look before answering the call and striding out of the café. Isabella watched him leave, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her camera to her chest. The cozy chatter of the café felt suddenly distant.