"Probably a good idea," Ned agrees, very grateful that he doesn't have to be the one to suggest that they not give their names or hang around too long after. He's been in this situation before, and it hadn't gone well. If the police had suspected him of murder when he was a scrawny, soft-spoken ten-year-old, what would be their reaction when he was a grown man?

He hates seeing Ginsberg's so visibly distraught, and while he's glad that he isn't the cause of it, he still doesn't like it. "She's not in pain now," Ned says, and that's the best he can really offer. He's not going to say she's in a better place, because neither of them really believe that. But she's not suffering, and that is important. As for the question of humanity's cruelty, he doesn't have a solution. Doesn't have a single thing to say, apart from a quiet, "I don't understand it either." Ned doesn't get that kind of sadism. He can wrap his head around circumstances in which he would let one person die, to save another, but that's different than slashing some poor woman's throat in a park. Miles and miles different.

"Ginsberg, are you gonna be okay?" he asks, as gently as he knows how to.