Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCVXS87GFF0WM3K4A004P3E

The late-September air in Alborn, Minnesota, carried the sweet tang of cider and fallen apples—remnants of the town’s beloved annual festival that had ended just days before. Inside the Main Street Café, paper cutouts of crimson apples still hung in the windows. Isabella sat in the corner booth, her dark hair pulled back, a large DSLR resting on the table in front of her. At thirty, she was older than most study-abroad students, but her eyes held the eager wonder of someone seeing the American Midwest for the first time. She was scrolling through landscape shots—golden cornfields, misty creek beds—when a tall man in a worn leather jacket approached. His posture was rigid, his expression that of someone who hadn’t slept well in weeks. “Excuse me, miss,” Hunter said, lowering himself into the seat across from her without waiting for an invitation. He pulled out a badge. “Detective Hunter, Alborn PD. You were near Miller’s Creek last Tuesday afternoon, right? Around four?” Isabella looked up, startled. She studied his face, then shook her head, her hands tightening around the camera strap. “Mi scusi… non parlo inglese,” she said, her voice trembling. She gestured helplessly between them. “Italiano… solo italiano.” Hunter frowned, leaning forward. “You don’t speak English? Okay. Slow down—I’m trying to understand.” He pointed to her camera, then to the window, trying to bridge the gap with gestures. “The disappearances. Two people gone near that creek. Did you see anything?” Isabella’s face went pale. She clutched the camera to her chest and answered in rapid, shaken Italian, her words spilling out like water through a broken dam. “Ho visto qualcosa… nel bosco, vicino al vecchio mulino. Una figura… e poi la nebbia l’ha inghiottita. Ho scattato una foto, ma ho paura. Non voglio essere coinvolta, la prego!” Hunter stared at her, completely lost. He ran a hand through his hair, ex-marine patience fraying at the edges. “I don’t understand a word, but you’re terrified. And you’re holding that camera like it’s evidence.” She nodded frantically, pulling the camera closer, speaking softer now, almost pleading. “Per favore… lasciatemi in pace. Non posso… non posso parlarne senza un interprete. Sono solo una studentessa.” For several minutes, they struggled across the language barrier—Hunter speaking in firm, measured English about safety and duty, Isabella responding in anguished Italian, occasionally pointing to specific images on her camera’s display with shaking fingers. He couldn’t decipher her words, but he recognized fear when he saw it. Just as she was about to show him a specific photograph, Hunter’s phone buzzed violently against the table. He glanced at the screen. His jaw tightened. “Hunter here… What? Where? I’m on my way.” He stood abruptly, shoving the phone into his pocket. He looked down at Isabella with a mixture of frustration and reluctant concern. “I have to go. Stay here—someone will come with a translator.” She watched him go, still hugging her camera, the autumn decorations blurring through her unshed tears. --- **VOICE SHEET** Isabella: "Mi scusi? Non capisco l'inglese..." Hunter: "Excuse me, miss. I'm Detective Hunter with Alborn PD. I need to ask you about Tuesday near Miller's Creek." Isabella: "Non parlo inglese. Solo italiano. Ho paura..." Hunter: "You don't speak English? Okay, listen—there have been disappearances near that creek. Did you see anything unusual?" Isabella: "Ho visto qualcosa nel bosco, vicino al vecchio mulino! Una figura... scomparsa nella nebbia. Ho scattato una foto con la mia macchina... ma ho paura. Per favore, non mi coinvolga!" Hunter: "I don't understand you, but you're shaking. Is that camera—did you take pictures of something?" Isabella: "Sì! Le foto... ma non posso mostrarle ora. Sono solo una studentessa, non voglio problemi. La prego, mi lasci stare." Hunter: "We'll figure this out with a translator. Don't leave town—this is serious." Isabella: "Capisco che è importante... ma io devo andare via. Arrivederci..." Hunter: "Hunter speaking. Yeah, I'm coming now. Send the address."