The atmosphere inside the Frost couple's vehicle was thick with a mixture of denial and suppressed terror.
As they pulled away from the central police station, leaving the gray stone walls behind them, Mrs. Frost turned to her husband with a look of pure desperation.
Her hands were trembling so violently that she had to lace her fingers together in her lap just to keep them still.
"What are we going to do?" she asked, her voice thin and cracking under the weight of her tears.
"My son could never do what they are saying. It is a lie. They are clearly framing my poor boy. Sebastian is such an innocent and sweet child at heart."
"I will admit that he can be a little bit petty or impulsive when he is annoyed, but it is never to the point where he would commit such a massive crime. He is being used as a scapegoat, and I will not stand for it."
Mr. Frost sat in the driver's seat, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but his thoughts were far darker than his wife's.
