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He just looked at her and nodded. Disgusted with himself, he got out of his chair, stumbling slightly as he did, before putting his hands behind him. Shame wouldn't let him talk to her. Rather, he spoke out loud looking slightly up. He didn't want her seeing the tear that began to fall.
"She is all I had. Where she is now I do not know." He shook his head a little. "She knew my temper and how William Mortimer brought it out simply by being himself. I grew incensed to the point where Alessa got between us, her hand on my shoulder. She pushed me back just a little, whispering in my ear that it was alright."
His right hand balled up and began to make small thumps on the door casing. His head shook more as his anguish grew.
"I.........I.....never even felt her take my pistol."
At this point, he fell to his knees. There was no turning back as the cat was out of the bag. "I did not even have time to stop her. I mean, William Mortimer lay dead on the couch before I even knew she had shot him."
His betrayal complete, he could say no more as he was on all fours, sobbing.