A thousand pieces of silver. That is what the king paid — and in Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis 20:16, the Aramaic paraphrase lingers on what the coins mean. They are a keseiat enayin, a veil of the eyes: a public declaration that Sarah was hidden from her husband one night, and that no injustice has been done.
The Targum does not flinch from the delicate detail. Inasmuch as thou wast hidden from thine husband one night, and I would have seen thee, Abimelech says. Even a king cannot buy what almost happened; he can only silence the gossip. Were I to give all that I have it would not suffice.
Then the verse closes with a line the Targum of Pseudo-Jonathan renders with quiet finality: And Abraham knew that Abimelek had not come near Sarah his wife. The matter has been argued out, weighed, and settled.
The Maggidim read the silver as a lesson in restoring honor. Money cannot undo harm, but it can make visible what the tongue would otherwise whisper. When a wrong nearly happened, the righteous response is not to hide it but to declare it.