The room fell silent.

Daddy’s face turned pale. Mummy’s eyes widened. Their daughter had just said the unthinkable: “You know, like you and Uncle Jack did when Daddy was in Vancouver. I saw it through the keyhole.”

Mummy froze. “Excuse me?” she asked, her voice trembling.

The little girl repeated it—innocent, unaware of the storm she’d unleashed. Daddy raised an eyebrow, suddenly less guilty. “Oh, really, Mummy?” he said, arms crossed.

Mummy stammered, trying to dismiss it as a misunderstanding, but the girl insisted. “Nope! It looked just the same. But Uncle Jack made silly faces while you two were on the bed!”

Daddy stifled a laugh. Mummy flushed crimson. “That’s enough bedtime stories!” she snapped, quickly ushering her daughter to bed.

As the girl skipped away, Daddy turned to Mummy, smirking. “Attorney in the morning, huh?”

Mummy glared, her voice low. “Don’t push your luck.”

Lesson: Children see more than we think—and speak the truth in moments adults wish they wouldn’t. Secrets, once spoken aloud, can’t be undone.