Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCPNNFA8TBSZJHYHKW63HW9

Isabella: *scrolling back through her photos, thumb hovering over one frame* "No, no, non è possibile... c'era qualcuno lì. Lo giuro." Hunter: "Ma'am? Sorry to interrupt. Detective Hunter, Alborn PD. You were down by the orchard road Tuesday night, weren't you? Blue coat, camera. Couple folks remember seeing you." Isabella: *looking up sharply, fingers tightening on the camera* "Il furgone. C'era un furgone bianco fermo davanti al vecchio granaio, e un uomo — stava trascinando qualcosa, no, qualcuno—" Hunter: "Okay. Okay, hold on. You're going a little fast for me there." Isabella: "Ho scattato una foto. Solo una. Poi ho spento tutto e sono corsa via, avevo paura, capisce? Avevo tanta paura." Hunter: "Ma'am, I'm not — I don't speak Italian. Do you speak any English at all? English? *Inglese?*" Isabella: *shaking her head, then turning the camera around and pushing it across the table toward him* "Guardi. Guardi qui. Il granaio. Vede la porta? Vede la mano?" Hunter: *leaning in, squinting at the small screen* "That's the Kessler barn. That's — hang on, is that a hand? Is somebody's hand in the doorway there?" Isabella: "Sì! Sì, la mano! Ho provato ad andare alla polizia, ma nessuno mi capiva, mi hanno dato un modulo, un modulo in inglese, e io—" *pressing her palms to her eyes* "Mi dispiace. Scusi. Sono molto stanca." Hunter: "Hey. Hey, it's alright. You're alright." *sitting down slowly across from her, lowering his voice* "You tried to report this. Didn't you. Somebody at the front desk gave you paperwork and sent you home." Isabella: *nodding, wiping her cheek with the back of her wrist* "Sì. Nessuno ascolta. Tutti parlano della festa delle mele, delle mele, delle mele, e c'è gente che sparisce." Hunter: "Mele. Apples. Yeah. I got that one." *rubbing his jaw* "Look. I want that photograph. That picture. Can you — " *miming a printing gesture, then pointing between the camera and himself* "Copy? For me?" Isabella: *hesitating, then cradling the camera protectively* "Non la perderò. È l'unica prova. L'unica." Hunter: "I'm not taking your camera. Just the picture. I swear on my mother, ma'am, just the picture." Isabella: *studying his face for a long moment* "Lei ha gli occhi di un uomo onesto. Spero di non sbagliarmi." Hunter: "...I'll take that as a maybe." *phone buzzing on the table; he glances at it and his expression flattens* "Hunter. Yeah. Where? — No, say that again. The Kessler property?" Isabella: *sitting up straight* "Kessler? Ha detto Kessler?" Hunter: *standing, already reaching for his coat* "Twenty minutes. Don't let anybody near that barn." *to Isabella, holding up a card and setting it beside her cup, tapping it twice* "This. My number. You. Call. Nine o'clock tomorrow, I'll bring somebody who speaks Italian. Okay? *Nove.* Tomorrow." Isabella: *taking the card, reading it, then looking up at him* "Nove. Domani. Ci sarò. E, detective—" *catching his sleeve* "stia attento. L'uomo del furgone era grande. Molto grande." Hunter: *pausing, not understanding a word, but hearing the warning in it anyway* "Yeah. I get the gist." *two fingers to his brow in a half-salute* "Nine o'clock, ma'am."