Simon & Luke & Fred
Fred was already tired - she had been tired since the moment she had to leave the Belmont Carnivale party, since she had to stick one Fox in a cell, since she had to track down Antoine Valentine, since she discovered the Marshal was in a dire health situation, since and walked through what was left of the wall in a government office.
In this moment, though, she felt truly and utterly exhausted. It oozed out of her, it threatened the very core of her being as it begged her to throw a tantrum, to storm out, to forcibly allow herself to be alone.
"Lukas Fox," she began, slow and firm. "The Records Office was just struck by what was likely an intentional destructive act. The Marshal is in the clinic with an uncertain prognosis. I simply do not have the energy to track down exactly when and from whom you stole your gold from."
She marked where she needed to on the release form and slid it to the side and handed Luke the pen.
"Sign here," Fred tapped her fingertip by a blank space. "Then get your brother, collect his things, and go home. Do not leave town, and wait for me to come find you. Thank you, goodnight."