She begs you

Mrs. Morgan's face goes white. Her hands twist in the fabric of her modest dress. "How... how do you know about that?" she whispers, voice shaking.

I keep my tone flat. "Sarah left her hair curler in your room. She asked me to grab it from the room earlier this morning. I walked in and saw everything—the desk guy behind you, your wedding ring on the nightstand, the way you were bent over taking his cock."

Her breath catches. She steps back, then forward again, unsure whether to run or beg. "Ethan, please. You can't tell Sarah. It would destroy her. If she found out her own mother..." Her voice cracks. "It would end my marriage. Everything would collapse."

She moves closer, desperation in every line of her body. The modest dress pulls tight across her chest as she breathes faster. "Please. I'll do anything. Just don't say anything. Not to Sarah, not to anyone."

Her eyes search mine, wet and terrified, waiting for my answer.