"I don't know." Fred stopped this time, realizing that she'd thought more about what had happened to her than who had happened to her. She wanted justice, sure, but she hadn't really thought about it. She pulled the clipboard closer, her brows furrowed for a moment.
"I don't know. I haven't even looked to see. It's bad, I know, but I haven't. Maybe...maybe I don't want to know. If the murderer got away, if nothing was done, I don't think I'd feel very safe. I'd have to stay in my room again, and I really don't want that." She looked slowly up at him, then smiled. "I'm sorry. Not much of a do gooder."