Run: 2026-10-06-01M48VT22BP2M1DNN3R2MA166R

**VOICE SHEET: "The Language Barrier"** --- **INT. THE ORCHARD CAFÉ – MORNING** *Rain streaks the windows. ISABELLA (30) sits alone at a corner table, camera in hand, scrolling through photos of golden apple blossoms. She wears a faded olive-green jacket, her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun.* *HUNTER (35) enters, shaking rain from his coat. He spots her—the only person who doesn't look like she belongs in Alborn. He approaches, badge clipped to his belt, expression serious.* --- **HUNTER** *(extending hand)* Detective Hunter. Alborn Police. Mind if I sit? **ISABELLA** *(startled, camera clutched to chest)* Oh—no, no, per favore, sit. *(gestures to chair)* Scusi, I didn't hear you come in. **HUNTER** *(sitting, uninvited but polite)* You're the Italian student? The one studying abroad at the community college? **ISABELLA** *(nods, wary)* Sì, Isabella. Isabella Conti. *(points to herself)* And you are...? **HUNTER** Hunter. I'm investigating some disappearances. Three people in the last month. *(leans forward)* You were at the apple festival last Saturday. The one before the... incident. *Isabella's fingers tighten on her camera. Her smile vanishes.* **ISABELLA** *(voice dropping)* The festival. Sì. I was there. I take many photographs. The apple trees, the people, the— **HUNTER** You saw something. **ISABELLA** *(shaking her head, troubled)* No, no, I don't... *(trails off, switching to rapid Italian)* Non so, non capisco, non ho visto niente di strano, solo mele e gente che rideva e— **HUNTER** *(frowning, leaning back)* Sorry, I don't speak... whatever that was. **ISABELLA** *(realizing, embarrassed)* Oh. Oh, mi dispiace. I forget. *(deep breath, slower)* I do not speak English. Not yet. I am learning, but... *(gestures helplessly)* ...it is difficult. **HUNTER** *(rubs his temple)* Great. Just great. *(pulls out notepad)* Okay. Let me try this. You were near the pie-eating contest. Around 2 PM. Did you see anyone acting strange? Anyone who didn't belong? **ISABELLA** *(thoughtful, touching her camera)* Strange... *(mimes thinking)* No. Everyone was happy. The music, the dancing. *(beat)* But... *(hesitates)* ...there was a man. Near the old barn. He was watching. Not eating, not dancing. Just... watching. **HUNTER** *(perking up)* Description? **ISABELLA** Tall. Dark coat, even though it was warm. Hat pulled low. *(frowns)* I wanted to photograph him, but... *(shakes head)* ...when I looked again, he was gone. Like smoke. **HUNTER** *(scribbling)* You got a picture? **ISABELLA** *(brightening, then deflating)* No. The camera... it did not work. I checked later. The battery, maybe. Or... *(whispers)* ...I do not know. It was strange. *Hunter studies her. She looks genuinely shaken, her hands trembling slightly as she turns her camera over in her lap.* **HUNTER** You're scared. **ISABELLA** *(meeting his eyes)* I am far from home. In my country, we do not have... *(searches for word)* ...disappearances. People do not just... vanish. *(voice cracks)* I came here to study the landscape. The beauty. Now I am afraid to walk alone. **HUNTER** *(softening, genuine)* Hey. I get it. You're not from here. But you're safe. That's what I'm here for. *(checks watch)* I gotta run—another call. But I'm leaving my number. *(tears page from notepad, slides it across)* If you remember anything else, or if you feel unsafe, you call. Any time. **ISABELLA** *(taking the paper, confused)* You... you will help me? Even if I cannot speak your language? **HUNTER** *(standing, pulling on his coat)* Especially then. *(points to her camera)* And hey—maybe get that thing checked. Could be nothing. But... *(shrugs)* ...could be something. *He turns to leave, then pauses.* **HUNTER** Isabella? **ISABELLA** *(looking up)* Sì? **HUNTER** The man in the dark coat. You said he was watching. *(beat)* Watching who? *Isabella's face goes pale. She looks at her camera, then back at Hunter.* **ISABELLA** *(whispered, in Italian)* I think... I think he was watching me. *Her phone BUZZES. Hunter glances at it, expression darkening.* **HUNTER** *(into phone)* Yeah, I'm on my way. *(to Isabella)* Stay put. Don't go anywhere alone. *(already walking backward)* And Isabella? *(serious)* Whatever you saw—don't let it scare you into silence. Not here. Not with me. *He exits into the rain. Isabella stares at his retreating figure, then at the notepad in her hand, then at her camera—still warm from her grip.* *She looks out the window at the apple orchard, silver with rain.* *And somewhere in the trees, a figure in a dark coat adjusts his hat and watches back.* --- **END SCENE**