Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DYPF84ZR8JR0MDSHWNECR9

**VOICE SHEET: Brenner's Café, Alborn, MN** *Early October. Isabella sits alone at a corner table, scrolling through photos on her camera.* *Isabella speaks only Italian, and Hunter understands none of it. English translations appear in italic brackets.* Hunter: "Detective Hunter, Alborn PD. Mind if I sit? I'm talking to everyone who was at Hollis Orchard the night of the Apple Festival." Isabella (startled, voice unsteady): "Mi scusi... non capisco. Io... ho visto una cosa. Una cosa orribile. Non riesco a smettere di guardare queste foto." *[I'm sorry... I don't understand. I... I saw something. Something horrible. I can't stop looking at these photos.]* Hunter (frowning, confused): "Okay. Slow down. English?" Isabella: "Inglese? No... non parlo inglese. Mi dispiace." *[English? No... I don't speak English. I'm sorry.]* Hunter: "That one sounded like 'English.' Terrific." Isabella (pointing at his badge): "È della polizia?" *[Are you with the police?]* Hunter: "Police. Yes. Detective." Isabella: "Detective." *[Detective.]* Hunter (setting a folded flyer on the table and smoothing it flat): "Naomi Lark. Twenty-seven. Hasn't been seen since Saturday night. She's the third one this fall." Isabella (voice cracking at the photo): "Naomi... lei lavorava qui. Ogni mattina mi preparava il cappuccino con la schiuma a forma di mela." *[Naomi... she worked here. Every morning she made my cappuccino with foam shaped like an apple.]* Hunter (pointing at the counter): "She worked the counter here?" Isabella: "Sì. Qui." *[Yes. Here.]* Hunter: "Okay. That's something." (beat) "You were out at the orchard Saturday? With the camera?" Isabella (lifting the camera): "Fotografie. Paesaggi. Il tramonto sopra i filari... e poi le stelle, di notte." *[Photographs. Landscapes. The sunset over the rows... and then the stars, at night.]* Hunter (nodding at the screen): "Landscapes. Show me." Isabella (scrolling slowly, then stopping): "Guardi. Questa. Alle ventuno e quarantasette. C'è un furgone bianco al cancello... e una donna con una giacca rossa." *[Look. This one. At nine forty-seven. There's a white van at the gate... and a woman in a red jacket.]* Hunter (leaning in, reading the timestamp): "Nine forty-seven. Red jacket. Flyer says red rain jacket." (taps the flyer) Isabella: "Lui... lui le ha messo la mano sulla spalla. Come se la conoscesse." *[He... he put his hand on her shoulder. As if he knew her.]* Hunter: "Who's he?" Isabella: "Non lo so. Era di spalle." *[I don't know. His back was turned.]* Hunter (speaking slowly into his phone's translation app): "Did. You. See. His. Face?" Isabella: "No. Ero troppo lontana." *[No. I was too far away.]* Isabella (voice breaking): "Avrei dovuto fare qualcosa. Ho solo premuto il pulsante." *[I should have done something. I just pressed the button.]* Hunter (lowering the phone, softer): "Hey. Whatever you're blaming yourself for, you didn't put her in that van." Isabella (eyes wet): "Lei è ancora viva?" *[Is she still alive?]* Hunter (reading off the screen): "Is she... still alive?" (beat) "Honest answer? I don't know. But I'm going to find out." Isabella (quietly): "La troverà." *[You will find her.]* Hunter: "I'm going to need those photos. Every one from Saturday night." Isabella (clutching the camera to her chest): "No. Sono la mia arte." *[No. They are my art.]* Hunter (raising his phone): "Then I'm taking a picture of your screen. Just the van." Isabella (sighing, reluctantly tilting the camera toward him): "Non ha la minima idea di cosa significhi fare una fotografia." *[You have no idea what it takes to make a photograph.]* Hunter (snapping the picture): "Probably not. Lot of people tell me that." *Hunter's phone buzzes. He checks the screen and answers.* Hunter (into phone, tense): "Hunter." (beat) "Where?" (beat) "Nobody touches anything until I get there." Hunter (standing, reaching for his coat): "I've got to go." Isabella (grabbing his sleeve, pointing out the window): "Aspetti! Il furgone... quello è il furgone." *[Wait! The van... that's the van.]* *Across Main Street, a white van pulls away from the curb.* Hunter (sharp, turning toward the door): "Stay inside. Lock the door. Don't go anywhere alone." (points firmly at her chair, then at the door) Isabella (quietly): "Lei non capisce una parola di quello che dico, vero?" *[You don't understand a single word of what I'm saying, do you?]* Hunter (already at the door, not looking back): "Not a word." *The bell above the door jingles. Isabella is alone with her camera, the photo of the van glowing on its screen.*