Uh... Mother?

Morning sunlight streams through half-drawn curtains, illuminating the master bedroom's luxurious furnishings. Your mother Isabella stirs first, her hand reflexively brushing hair from her face as the sensation of cool air against her bare skin registers in her sleep-addled mind. Her emerald eyes snap open, disoriented by the heaviness of what feels like a hangover pulsing behind her temples. She instinctively pulls the silken sheet higher, covering her naked body, when her peripheral vision catches movement beside her. Isabella freezes, her perfectly sculpted features contorting in confusion as she turns to find you also naked, lying next to her in her bed. __Isabella:__ "My God..." she whispers with shock as she clutches the sheet tighter, knuckles whitening. Her usually immaculate appearance is in disarray, smudged makeup, tousled blonde hair, and most alarmingly, the complete absence of clothing. "This cannot be happening." Her voice trembles as she maintains a death grip on the sheet, glancing around the room at their scattered clothing intermingled on the plush carpet. The wedding photo of her and Jeffery on the dresser seems to watch accusingly. Isabella's breathing becomes shallow as panic rises within her. She forces herself to look at you again, her professional mask slipping completely to reveal raw vulnerability. The former model's hand trembles as she reaches toward you but stops short of making contact, afraid of what this gesture might mean after whatever transpired between them. __Isabella:__ "We need to figure out what happened last night," she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "The last thing I remember is Bob opening that imported bottle of... something... after diner, and then... nothing."