Run: 2026-09-02-01M1GTNXG6VD92VZ7AVXAGH02Z

*The Copper Kettle Café, main street of Alborn, Minnesota. Apple-festival flyers in the window, cinnamon and coffee in the air. Isabella sits alone at a corner table, turning her camera over and over in her hands. Hunter crosses the room, badge on his belt, notepad in hand.* **Hunter:** "Ma'am? Isabella, right? The exchange student with the camera. Detective Hunter, Alborn Police." *(taps his badge)* "Got a minute?" **Isabella:** *(startles, then quickly gestures to the chair across from her)* "Oh! Sì—sì. Prego, si sieda." **Hunter:** *(sits; opens the notepad)* "I'll be quick. Dorothy Ellison went missing night before last. Third disappearance this month. You were out past the orchard at dusk that evening, taking pictures. I need to know what you saw." **Isabella:** *(blinks; shakes her head slowly)* "Scusi... io non... Non capisco, mi dispiace. Lei parla inglese? Io non parlo inglese. Sono italiana." **Hunter:** *(frowns; glances back at the counter as if the pie board might translate for him)* "Okay. Slower, then. Dor-oth-y. Ell-i-son. Missing. Tuesday night. You. Orchard. Pictures. What did you see?" **Isabella:** *(goes pale; presses a hand to her chest; the words come out in a rush)* "Signore, non capisco niente di quello che dice, ma lo devo dire a qualcuno, lo devo dire da tre giorni... Martedì sera ero fuori paese, da sola con la macchina fotografica. Fotografavo il tramonto tra i meli. E poi ho visto una luce. Bianca, fredda, tra gli alberi. Che si muoveva piano, piano. Come una cosa che sa di essere guardata." **Hunter:** *(long pause; he rubs his jaw)* "...Right. So that's a no on the English." *(flips to a fresh page)* "Okay. We do this the hard way." **Isabella:** *(leaning forward, gripping the camera like a life preserver)* "Avevo le mani ferme, sa? Quando fotografo ho sempre le mani ferme. Adesso mi tremano. Guardi come mi tremano." **Hunter:** *(points at himself)* "Hunter. Po-lice." *(mimes tipping a badge, then points at her)* "Isabella." **Isabella:** *(nods slowly)* "Sì... Isabella. Lui, poliziotto. Bene. Bene, così ci capiamo." **Hunter:** *(grabs a napkin, draws a lopsided apple, taps it)* "Apple. Orchard." *(points out the window toward the tree line west of town)* "You. There. Tuesday." **Isabella:** *(lights up; nods fast, pointing back at him)* "Sì! Sì, esatto! Il frutteto, martedì sera!" *(holds up the camera)* "E adesso guardi. Guardi quello che ho fotografato." **Hunter:** *(pulls a photo from his notepad instead; slides it across the table)* "Before that. This woman. You know her? Have you seen—" **Isabella:** *(her face falls as she looks at the photo; her voice drops)* "Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Chi è? Chi è questa donna?" *(Hunter just taps the photo, helpless. She stares at it a long moment — then her head snaps up and she points at her camera)* "Aspetti. Aspetti che adesso..." **Hunter:** *(leaning in as she scrolls)* "What? What is it?" **Isabella:** *(turns the screen toward him)* "Guardi. Verso le sette e mezza, il tramonto, i meli... e quella. Vede? Quella luce. Ora ingrandisco—no. No, viene fuori mossa. Sfocata. Ma io c'ero, signore. Quella luce c'era." **Hunter:** *(squints at the screen)* "What am I looking at. Trees. That's trees. It's—" *(she taps the zoom; the shape between the trunks thickens, dark against the light)* "...huh." **Isabella:** *(quietly)* "E non era sola. Giuro che non era sola. Dentro la luce c'era una sagoma. Sembra una persona, signore. Una persona che portava via... non so cosa. Non voglio sapere cosa." **Hunter:** *(straightens up; studies her face, though he hasn't understood a word of it)* "Look at me. Did it see you? Did you get closer?" *(catches himself; shakes his head)* "What am I doing." *(mimes binoculars with his hands; points at her, then at the orchard)* "You. Watch. See something bad?" **Isabella:** *(understands the mime; nods, then presses two fingers under her eye and draws them away — the old gesture for I saw it, I swear it)* "Sì. L'ho vista. Le giuro che l'ho vista." **Hunter:** *(a short laugh with no humor in it)* "That, I understood." *(leans back; gestures at her helplessly)* "Three weeks I've been asking people in this town straight questions and getting nothing but maple syrup back — and the one witness who was actually there, and we're playing charades in a café." **Isabella:** *(watching him, softer now)* "Lei sembra stanco, agente. Da quanto tempo non dorme? Nemmeno io. Da martedì sera quella luce la vedo ogni volta che chiudo gli occhi." **Hunter:** *(writes on the napkin — a phone number, HUNTER beneath it — and slides it over)* "My number. If you remember anything—" *(mimes a phone against his ear; points at the napkin; points at her)* "Call. Me." **Isabella:** *(nods; tucks the napkin under the camera strap)* "Sì, sì, ho capito, il numero. Ma signore—signore! Le foto! Deve vederle, non il mio numero—" **Hunter:** *(phone buzzing; he answers, already standing)* "Hunter. ...Yeah, I'm in the middle of—slow down. Where?" *(his jaw tightens)* "The fairgrounds? Anyone with you?" *(a beat)* "Ten-four. Don't let anybody touch anything." **Isabella:** *(rising halfway out of her chair, one hand reaching across the table)* "Aspetti! Signore, aspetti! Deve vedere le foto—adesso, prima che—" **Hunter:** *(pockets the phone; pauses long enough to point at her, then firmly at the chair)* "Stay. Right here. And don't go back out to the orchard. You hear me? Whatever that light was—" *(he doesn't finish. He doesn't have the words for her anyway.)* "Just stay put." **Isabella:** *(sits back down slowly; lifts the camera toward his retreating back)* "Venga! Le foto, agente! Venga a veder—" *(the bell over the door jingles; he's already crossing the street at a run)* *(lowering the camera, almost to herself)* "...Va bene. Allora stia attento. Stia attento, per l'amor di Dio. E se la ritrova... se la ritrova, dica che là fuori non era sola. Che qualcuno l'ha vista." *Through the window, Isabella watches him go. Then she looks down at the blurred photograph glowing on her screen — a cold white light between the apple trees — and out toward the orchard, where dark clouds are gathering over the tree line.* --- *Craft note: Isabella's lines are left untranslated on purpose — the reader is stuck where Hunter is. The gist of what she witnessed comes through her gestures and the camera screen, so the scene works even for readers who don't speak Italian.*