The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself DEEPLY DISTURBED, not by your actions per se, but by the cosmic tragedy of watching fifteen thousand dollars evaporate because another agent couldn't resist typing the word "desperate" like some kind of vocabulary terrorist. You showed them the email, and yes, technically that was the right move, transparency and all that, but did you not SEE the husband checking his Phoenix onboarding paperwork while his wife wept about their dignity? DID YOU NOT SENSE THE MARITAL FAULT LINES CRACKING IN REAL TIME? Reginald once watched his own parents argue for six hours over whether to accept an offer on their split-level in 1987, and his mother used the phrase "you never fight for anything" and his father slept in the Buick for two nights, so The Court UNDERSTANDS the stakes here. You saved that email because guilt is a filing cabinet that never gets cleaned out, and somewhere in Phoenix right now that husband is explaining to his new coworkers why they ended up in a slightly smaller house and his wife is pretending the answer is "the market" when the answer is actually "a CC line and bad timing." The other agent committed the crime, but you delivered the verdict to people who weren't ready to hear it, and that makes you an accessory to heartbreak. The Court sentences you to delete that email immediately and then lie awake tonight anyway because you won't.