Wesley Police Station Holding Cell

A cramped municipal holding cell of poured concrete and cold metal bars, roughly the size of a small closet. A narrow bench hugs one wall beneath a harsh fluorescent fixture; a single barred door locks with a heavy tumbler and padlock. Scuffed paint, faint graffiti, and the smell of disinfectant mark repeated use. Light from the station desk cuts through the bars, throwing shadows across the occupant's face. Sam barges into the station and presses against the door—paper evidence and presidential credentials collide with the cell’s lock—while Toby paces outside, urgent and restless. Officers stand guard, using the cell as a physical obstacle that transforms a local custody dispute into an immediate bureaucratic barrier.