Isla squeezes my hand and I squeeze back, and we lean against each other, shoulder to shoulder. We’re both trembling, equal parts relief and fear.

Paloma, on the other hand, not thrilled with this turn of events—apparently my mom did not fill her in beforehand—attempts to convince the producer to cut to commercial. The producer grins and shakes her head. This makes for good television, if not a great PR strategy.

My mom, under the lights, honest and raw, is riveting.

“I love my daughters more than you can possibly imagine, and as a parent, it is my job to be a role model. I have obviously failed in that regard. I’m so ashamed of my dishonest behavior, and I don’t know how I will make it up to them or to all the students out there who worked hard and didn’t try to cheat the system. I promise you this, though: I will spend the rest of my life trying.” My mom folds her paper, swats at the tears falling down her face, and looks up at Brittany Brady, who’s taken utterly off guard. She was prepped for a different sort of interview, something in keeping with the quotes Paloma’s team has been leaking to the press and attributing to a “longtime friend of the family”: my mother insists on her innocence, she believes this will all blow over soon, the only real criminal here is Dr. Wilson.

“I assume you realize that by pleading guilty you will likely be facing jail time,” Brittany says, which isn’t a question, but she pauses for an answer anyway. Paloma takes the break to try to force her way onto the set, but my dad shakes his head at her. She hesitates, then stands down.

“Yes, but it’s not ‘likely’—it’s definitely,” my mom says. “And it’s prison, actually, not jail.”

“As you know, a lot of the other people swept up in this scandal pled guilty a month ago, and presumably had you done so then and taken immediate responsibility, you’d have received a more favorable sentence. So why the change of heart today? Just a few weeks ago, you vowed to fight the charges.”

“My girls have always been my number one concern. I don’t always do things right, obviously.” My mom nervously clears her throat. “But when this all happened, I felt like I couldn’t leave them. I couldn’t go to prison and not be here to support them in the aftermath of this mess I had made. That seemed more important than anything else. Being with my daughters.”

My mom’s voice cracks, and she catches my eye. I give her a teary thumbs-up.