Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KBHNVV9SPWCB3G3VB9VSVB

**Setting:** A small, sunlit café in Alborn, Minnesota. The scent of roasted coffee beans and apple pastries hangs in the air. Isabella sits alone at a corner table, her hands wrapped around a warm mug of tea. Her camera sits on the table in front of her, and she slowly scrolls through the digital images on its screen, a troubled frown etching lines between her brows. **Hunter** enters, his eyes scanning the room with a practiced, methodical gaze. He spots her—the only person not looking at a phone—and walks over, his posture straight and purposeful. He stops at her table, casting a brief shadow over her work. --- **Hunter:** Excuse me. I’m Detective Hunter. I saw you over by the old Bellweather property yesterday afternoon, taking photos. *(Isabella looks up, her dark eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion. She utters a soft, questioning syllable.)* **Isabella:** ...Scusi? **Hunter:** *(He pulls out the chair opposite her and sits down, lowering his voice.)* I'm looking into a few things that have happened in town. I was hoping you might have seen something. From your vantage point, you had a clear view of the access road. *(Isabella blinks, trying to parse the stranger's tone. She catches a word—"town"—and shakes her head gently, offering a polite but helpless smile.)* **Isabella:** Mi dispiace, non parlo inglese. Sto solo scattando fotografie al paesaggio. È un posto bellissimo, ma... oggi mi sento molto inquieta. *(She taps her camera, then looks back at him, her expression clouding over. She points at the camera, then back out the window, towards the road he mentioned. Her hands tremble slightly as she mimics holding a camera and then shakes her head vigorously.)* **Hunter:** *(His jaw tightens. He doesn't understand a word, but he recognizes the fear in her body language. He pulls out a small notepad and a pen.)* Do you... uh... write? Draw? *(He makes a scribbling motion in the air.)* **Isabella:** *(She looks at the pen and notepad, then at his uniform. She understands he is a policeman.*) Ah... Polizia. *(She nods, then gestures to the camera again, her voice growing more urgent, trying to convey a sense of wrongness.)* C'è qualcosa che non va con quel posto. Ho visto una macchina, una macchina vecchia... e poi... niente. Sono spariti. Puff! *(She makes a vanished gesture with her fingers, her face paling. She looks at him, searching for understanding in his eyes.)* **Hunter:** *(He stares at her, completely lost. He writes "OLD CAR" on his notepad with a question mark and slides it across the table to her, pointing at the word.)* Old car? You saw an old car? Was there a driver? A man? **Isabella:** *(She reads the two words, her brow furrowing. She points at "CAR" and nods enthusiastically, then taps her chest.*) Si, una macchina! Ma non era normale. Ha fatto un rumore... boom, boom... e poi... *(She trails off, looking down at the camera again. She scrolls to a specific photo, her hand hesitating over the screen before she turns it around to show him.*) *(The photo shows the dusty road, a dilapidated car half-hidden behind trees, and a figure standing very close to the car, barely in the frame—a shadowy blur.)* **Hunter:** *(He leans in, his eyes sharpening. The hair on the back of his neck stands up. This is more than he expected.)* That’s what I was looking for. *(He points to the blue car in the photo, then to himself, then back at the car.*) This car. It belongs to a missing man. Where was this? Can you show me? *(He points out the window, gesturing down the street.)* **Isabella:** *(She looks from his face to the photo, seeing his sudden intensity. She understands he is serious. She nods, but her expression is pleading as she puts a hand over her heart.)* Vi prego, abbiate cura. Ho paura per lui. Non doveva essere lì. Non doveva... **Hunter:** *(He pulls out his phone as it suddenly buzzes violently. He glances at the screen, his expression hardening. He stands up, tucking the notepad away.)* I have to go. *(He points at her camera, then at himself, then holds up a finger in a "wait" gesture that is unmistakable.)* Stay here. Wait. I'll be back. **Isabella:** *(She watches him, her heart pounding. She nods, clutching her camera like a lifeline.*) Sì... aspettiamo. Ma faccia attenzione, Detective. *(Hunter gives her one last look, a silent acknowledgment, before turning on his heel and striding out of the café, his phone already at his ear. Isabella stares at the picture on her screen, whispering to herself.)* **Isabella:** ...Che weekend.