I sit in the chapel next to my wife.
Pretty soon, I'll have to speak. I'm always the grand finale these days.
I really don't know if I can.
I study Teresa's pert profile and long white neck.
Mrs. Jane.
So solemn decked in midnight blue mourning.
Turn around and look at me, darling.
Why, Teresa?
Why'd you do it?
Bunny was a pure spirit. A playful, innocent child.
He got wild ideas sometimes.
But he meant no harm.
And he loved me.
That part, you figured out, didn't you darling?
But did you figure out the other side of that connection?
The part where I loved him?
Angela knew.
She didn't want us living in New York or anywhere near Bunny.
I needed credibility all right.
In Angela's eyes.
So I went back to California to prove to her that she came first. Her and Charlotte.
I was angry that I had to choose.
Angry at her when I went on TV and ran my mouth about Red John.
But I didn't do it to manipulate Red John into murdering her.
I think you know that now, Teresa.
You trust me now.
You just thought you needed to protect us.
From sweet lost Bunny.
We could have been so happy, Teresa.
How can I forgive you?