DEBORAH'S POV
Mario found me in the green room fifteen minutes before airtime. I was sitting in a chair that was trying too hard to be comfortable, staring at a television screen showing the news program I was about to be part of.
"What kinds of questions will you ask?" I said.
"Just be honest. Tell your truth. That's what people want to hear."
"But what specifically..."
"Mrs. Rossi, if I tell you the questions ahead of time, you'll sound rehearsed. Trust me, spontaneous answers are much more compelling."
The studio was smaller than it looked on television. Just a desk and two chairs surrounded by cameras and lights that made everything too bright. Mario sat across from me, shuffling papers and checking his earpiece.
"Thirty seconds," someone called from behind the cameras.
My mouth went dry. My hands started shaking and I pressed them flat against my thighs, trying to keep still.
"And we're live in three... two..."
