Will contemplates Hannibal's question for a moment, knowing he wants to say something that will tell Alana what he's done, not where he's gone but who he's gone with, and that he won't be coming back. But he doesn't plan to offer any apologies or explanations, doesn't have any interest in wishing her farewell. She'd had a choice when he'd been in jail, the opportunity to trust him, to believe him, but she hadn't. If she'd been blinded by her feelings or her desires, he didn't know; all he was certain of was that, ultimately, she'd chosen Hannibal over him. And now he was doing the same.

He doesn't tell Hannibal what he's going to say, only goes to the phone on his desk, standing close enough to where Hannibal is seated that his knee brushes Hannibal's bent one as he picks up the receiver, leans to dial Alana's office number. It rings six times, clicks over, and her outgoing message plays, instructing him to leave a message.

"It's over," he says once the tone plays. "Pandora's box has been opened, there's no turning back. Don't try to look for us, don't try to find us, don't think about us anymore. Walk away, Alana. It will save your life."

He replaces the receiver in the cradle then, and while he doesn't have any strong emotions about Alana, no regrets or fears tied up in her, no lingering desires, there's a finality of it that causes him to pause, exhaling a long, calming breath.