Run: 2026-05-10-01KR8YVGYRSYFS12FVZMSCFG0X

The bell above the door of the Alborn Café chimed, announcing the arrival of the humid Minnesota afternoon. Isabella sat by the window, her fingers trembling slightly as she toggled through the high-resolution images on the back of her DSLR. She was looking for something—a shadow, a flicker of movement near the orchard—but every photo of the ripening apples felt like an accusation. Hunter stepped into her orbit, his heavy boots sounding purposeful against the floorboards. He pulled out the chair opposite her, his expression a map of professional weariness. He didn't ask; he simply occupied the space, his eyes tracking the camera in her lap. *** **Hunter:** "Miss? I’m Detective Hunter. I’ve been asking around about the festival grounds yesterday. My reports say you were out by the north ridge with that lens of yours. Did you see anyone wandering near the clearing around four?" **Isabella:** (*Her head snaps up, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. She gestures frantically at the camera screen, her voice tight and rapid.*) "Non dovresti essere qui! Non capisci... il bosco, gli alberi... c'era un uomo, ma non era un uomo. Ho scattato la foto, ma si è dissolto nel buio. Ho paura, signore, c'è qualcosa di terribile in questo posto!" **Hunter:** (*He furrows his brows, leaning back with a look of utter bewilderment, his hand instinctively touching his badge as if it might translate for him.*) "Whoa, slow down. I don't speak a word of that. Look, I just need to know if you saw something suspicious. Was there a vehicle? A person? Just... point to a photo or give me a name." **Isabella:** (*She pushes the camera toward him, trembling, and points to a blurred, dark anomaly in the corner of one frame.*) "Guarda! Nessuno mi crede, ma la fotocamera non mente. Perché nessuno vede quello che vedo io? Mi sento osservata, ogni volta che la guardo, sento il gelo sulla pelle!" **Hunter:** (*He leans in to look at the screen, squinting at the empty, blurry patch of trees, his jaw tightening into a line of frustration.*) "It’s just a blur, miss. Lens flare or a smudge on the glass. Look, I’m trying to help, but this isn't giving me anything to work with. Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." **Isabella:** (*She pulls the camera back to her chest protectively, her voice dropping to a panicked whisper.*) "Non è un fantasma. È peggio. È qui, ad Alborn. Dovete andarmene, dovete correre via prima che faccia buio di nuovo!" **Hunter:** (*His radio crackles harshly at his hip, cutting through the tension. He sighs, pulling the device out and pressing it to his ear. After listening for a moment, his face hardens.*) "Yeah, I'm on my way. Copy that." (*He stands up abruptly, looking down at Isabella with a mix of irritation and regret.*) "I have to move. Something just turned up at the old mill. Stay put, and for God's sake, don't go wandering back out into those woods." **Isabella:** (*She stares at him, her eyes searching his face for understanding, but finding only the cold distance of a language barrier. She grips her camera until her knuckles turn white.*) "Non andare lì... ti prego, non andare lì!"