Run: 2026-05-10-01KR8ZBJHQ98KE2V7710HM8MDX

The autumn breeze rattle the windows of the Alborn Café, carrying the scent of cinnamon and decay from the nearby apple orchards. Hunter, his coat collar turned up against the chill, stops beside the small wrought-iron table where Isabella sits. She is hunched over her DSLR, her knuckles white as she reviews the images captured earlier that morning. Hunter clears his throat, his posture rigid. He holds up a crumpled photograph—a grainy shot of a localized fog bank. **Hunter:** "Excuse me, miss. I see you’ve been wandering the north orchards with that camera all week. I’m Detective Hunter. I’m working on a case involving some folks who went missing near here. Did you happen to see anyone—or anything—out of the ordinary when you were taking these?" **Isabella:** *(She jumps, clutching the camera to her chest. Her eyes are wide, darting toward the door before settling on Hunter with an expression of profound distress.)* "Oddio... non capisco... ma ho visto... ho visto qualcuno nel bosco! Una sagoma nera, immobile, proprio dietro gli alberi dove le nebbie si addensano. Ero terrorizzata, non potevo nemmeno scattare, le mani mi tremavano così tanto!" **Hunter:** *(He frowns, tilting his head with a look of mounting irritation and confusion. He slowly lowers the photograph.)* "Slow down. I’m sorry, I don’t follow you. Is that… French? Look, did you see a person, or not? I need a clear answer. Was there someone in the orchard after the festival preparations started?" **Isabella:** *(She flips through her digital display rapidly, her fingers shaking as she finds a specific, blurry image and pushes the camera toward him.)* "Guardi! Guarda là, tra le ombre! Non era una persona normale, detective, le giuro! Sono venuta qui per studiare, non per vedere queste oscurità... mi sento così lontana da casa, nessuno qui riesce ad aiutarmi!" **Hunter:** *(He peers at the screen, squinting at the overexposed pixels, then sighs and runs a hand through his hair.)* "I’m not getting a single word of this—are you local? Wait, don’t answer that, just… stop shaking. Listen, I can’t translate whatever you’re saying, but if you saw something, you need to be clear. Was it a man? A woman? A threat?" **Isabella:** *(She looks at him, sensing his frustration and feeling even more isolated. Her eyes well up with tears as she shakes her head hopelessly.)* "È inutile. Nessuno mi ascolta, nessuno mi capisce. Sono prigioniera in questa città di mele e fantasmi. Per favore, mi lasci in pace, voglio solo tornare in albergo." **Hunter:** *(He opens his mouth to press her further, but his shoulder radio crackles with a sharp, static-filled burst. He taps his ear piece, listening intently, his face hardening.)* "Yeah, this is Hunter. Copy that. Are you sure? Alright, I’m on my way." **Hunter:** *(He glances back at Isabella, his gaze professional but impatient.)* "Look, I’ve got to go. A lead just broke on the west side. Don’t leave town, alright? I’ll have someone who speaks your language find you later. You’re not off the hook yet." *(Hunter turns on his heel and strides out of the café, leaving the bell above the door chiming frantically in his wake.)*