The Homecoming Queen’s Gambit | 1

Hi, Steve Buscemi here.

You know, long before I was an actor, I used to work as an usher at a movie theater in Valley Stream, Long Island. My job at the Bel Air Theater was to maintain order during screenings.
I'd walk the theater aisles, flashlight in hand, pretending I was some sort of authority figure. Now, during these patrols, I'd watch the same movies over and over again.
And when you watch something repeatedly, you start to notice the minutiae. Like an actor's subtle facial expressions or the composition of a particular shot.
It was almost like I had my own personal film class. So, in between sweeping a popcorn and changing the titles on the marquee, my appreciation for the supporting character really came into focus.
I mean, these roles often go uncelebrated and live in the shadow of the leading characters. Take, for example, one of my favorite actors, John Cazal.
Now, you know him as Fredo from the Godfather movies. Now, Cazal doesn't always get the same sort of name recognition as Al Pacino or Marlon Brando, but maybe that's because he was so good at disappearing into the role.
He became Fredo. So one night during my shift, I'm watching Sidney Lumet's Dog Day Afternoon for like the tenth time, starring the one and only Al Pacino.
And as I'm watching one night, I realize, wow, the actor playing Sal, Pacino's long-haired partner in crime, is the same actor who played Fredo, John Cazal. I mean, I almost didn't recognize him.
He looked and acted totally different in this role. I mean, I was blown away.
He blended into the story, shaping and expanding the narrative, but he was never the star. Always a supporting role.
But to me, those fringe characters are fascinating. They make me lean in and ask, what's their story? What's going on with them? Well, I am pleased to introduce you to Big Time, a show that shines the spotlight directly on those outcast characters.

You'll hear stories of underdogs and misfits who have somehow mustered up the courage to star in their own story.

Now, I'm not saying these characters that we're going to follow are heroes.

Like Fredo or Sal, they're complicated, dangerous, and flawed. They make questionable decisions, but they do it on their own terms.
To kick off the show, we have the story of a high school popularity contest and the mother-daughter duo willing to risk it all for the plastic crown. This is Big Time, an Apple original podcast from Peace of Work Entertainment and Campside Media in association with Olive Productions.
Here to tell you more is reporter Rajiv Gola. All right, the red light is on.
The following is a tape recorder statement of Ms. Laura Carroll provided to Gary Marsh investigators at the Game of the County School District.
Do you swear the information you're about to give would be the truth to the best of your knowledge? Yes. It's November 2020 in Pensacola, Florida, and Laura Carroll is in a small, closed room at the school district headquarters.
She's been summoned here by the district investigator, Gary Marsh. If there's something criminal happening in the schools, Gary Marsh is going to sniff it out.
Okay, now you're very soft-spoken, so if you could restate an affirmative and a little more of a teacher voice, maybe that would be the easier thing to be able to do. Okay, so acknowledge that.
For the record, if you would please state your full legal name and your current position with the district. My name is Laura Carroll, and I'm an assistant principal at Bellevue Elementary.
Laura has been with the school district for 20 years, moving up the ranks from teacher to assistant principal at Bellevue Elementary. For a school employee, getting called to the district headquarters is the equivalent of getting called to the principal's office, and it's likely that her job is on the line.
Can you tell me what this is? Sure, and that's where we're going. Can you get there quicker? Well, I'll take my own time.
But I can leave, right? You can leave at any time that you want to. Can't we just tell me what it's about? Have you, as an administrator, have you ever been aware of anybody having inappropriate access to the student information system? Not that comes to mind.
The system they're asking about is called FOCUS, and it's an online portal used to upload grades, mark attendance, and store all sorts of other sensitive student information for thousands of students within the Escambia County School District. But Marsh is curious about one student in particular.
You have your daughter, right? I'm left, yeah. Emily Grover.
She's at Tate. Emily's 17, a popular kid at Tate High School.
Any chance that your daughter's logged in? Your daughter's gained access to your system? No. Okay.
How can you say that? Well, I mean, I can't, but you're asking me. Okay.
We are concerned because when we happen to run across some information that I'm dealing with, we saw your login had accessed information for over 300 high school students. Why would someone do that? Well, good point.
Emily just got crowned homecoming queen up at Tate High School, correct?

Yeah.

Okay.

Is that what this is? This is what this is?

Mm-hmm. It is.

It's the fall of Emily's senior year, and Tate High School's homecoming game had just taken place that weekend.

Here's what the concern is.

There was a significant number of fraudulent votes, and those fraudulent votes were cast for your daughter.

There were no other fraudulent votes cast for anybody else.

And the bottom line is, it's either her or you.

So, it's one of the two.

How does that make you feel?

Not good.

My name is Rajiv Gola, and I'm from Daytona Beach.

This story takes place up in Pensacola, the Panhandle,

which is basically the other goofy part of Florida.

So it's only natural that I pulled the short stick

and had to return to a world I'd done my best to forget about completely.

High school.

I'm going in state. As you might guess with a resume like that,

I didn't have much experience with going to school dances or sports events,

and homecoming court was not very relevant to my life.

But that wasn't the case for Emily Grover,

a senior student at Tate High School in a suburb of Cantonment, Florida.

Tate was a lot like my high school,

about the same size, same sort of sports programs,

and the same kind of surprisingly high-quality education.

Emily was your model high schooler.

She was on the tennis team, she had a bunch of friends,

she was well-liked by her teachers,

and she got good grades in everything, except math, which, to be fair, is a cool subject to be bad at. Emily was what you might call a popular girl.
Between all her extracurriculars and the student government, she knew just about everyone at Tate, including Gabe Ferguson, who was a year above her. I don't want to say, like, oh, I was popular, because that sounds like so cringe to say by high school.

But, like, I was friends with a lot of the popular kids. So, like, popular by association.
That's okay, Gabe. Toot your own horn.
Gabe was popular, and he was friendly with Emily Grover. But as anyone at the top of the social ladder will tell you, being friendly isn't the same as being friends.
She was friends with a lot of people, but it was kind of like a mean girl sitch. It was very pressured friends, where it was like, if you're not friends with her, why aren't you? There's got to be something wrong there.
It's kind of like a red flag. So she knew pretty much every single person in her class because of that, because she was involved with student government.

I had known her and her sister because all three of us had done student government in some way.

Her sister was involved with like the senior executive board.

Whenever I was a junior doing student government, she was a year below me.

Yeah, sorry, this might be real notification.

Like, let me do this really quick.

I apologize.

No, by all means, Gabe, feel free to make our staff feel incredibly old. Anyway, given Emily's social status, it came as no surprise when she was on the shortlist for Homecoming Queen her senior year.
And homecoming at a school like Tate was a big deal. It's a whole week full of events where, like, you dress up every day based off of the theme.
It's a competition in between the classes, whether it's something like Cowboys versus Prep. And then it would kind of all lead up to Friday, which we would have a pep rally that we planned where we all go out to the football stadium during school for about an hour, hour and a half, play some games, have the football team, kind of have that competition between classes still.
And amidst that entire circus, there was the election for homecoming king and queen. Now, according to every high school movie you've ever watched, this is literally the most important thing for a 15-year-old.
I would not even say a third of the school voted. It was a select amount because of the fact, people didn't want to have to take their phones out and log on to a website,

put their information in.

Like, that took five minutes,

but it worked to it.

People may not have voted for the election,

but that's not to say that the homecoming court

wasn't afforded every bit of pomp

and circumstance that Tate could swing.

Close your eyes and let me paint you a picture.

It's a cool fall Florida evening, and the stands are packed with high schoolers and their parents. It's halftime and the marching band has just put on another one of their truly impressive shows.
Crisscrossing the field in perfect time while baton twirlers prance between them. They fall back to make way for the queen contenders.
So they have all of the girls on homecoming court go out to the football field.

They're wearing long gowns for this one.

And them and their father or some other fatherly figure walk them out into the center of the field.

And they line them up in a V formation facing towards our home.

The lights glimmer off their ball gowns.

Emily's is covered in silver sequins.

She holds on to the tuxedoed arm of her father, Bubba Grover. The emcee introduces each member of the homecoming court and starts to wind up the crowd.
First, he announces the second runner-up. Then, he names the first runner-up.
And then finally,

Emily Grover!

She's so happy!

They, like, get their extra little sash, their crown tiara,

whatever, or, like, take a little ride

around in a convertible car,

and then the next night,

usually Saturday night, you would have the homecoming dance.

The local papers run photos of Emily wearing a tiara and a sash. Bubba's smile could stretch from Miami to Tallahassee.
But something already seems off. Historically, it's usually banned students who win homecoming queen, which people wouldn't expect.
But for some reason at Tay High School, they did. So it was like a shock is what I was told people didn't expect.
Even though Gabe had already graduated and moved away by this point, he was still plugged into the Tate High School rumor mill, which was running at full bore that week. If I'm going to be transparent, I was definitely one of the kids in the gossip wheel all the time.
So usually it would start with the main popular group. We had like the football players cheerleaders together.
Then it would make its rounds into the agricultural kids. I was in that group so then I would take it over to like the nerdy group.
It was very, it was like a fast wildfire that was like pervasive to the rest of campus and a lot of us had very large mouths with loose lips. I'd say quite a few of our teachers were even more knowledgeable about it.
Before Emily had even finished her hair and makeup for the ceremony, there were rumors that the homecoming election votes didn't add up right. Tate's homecoming election was held using an app called Election Runner.
Students logged in and used their birthdays as their secret password. And once they cast a vote, they would be barred from editing their decision or voting again.
Simple enough, right? Except when some students logged in to cast their vote, they were told that a vote had already been cast in their name. What's more, Election Runner had also flagged hundreds of votes which had originated from the same IP address.
In the days that followed Emily's crowning, rumors continued to run rampant, and a phone call was placed to the school's fraud, waste, and abuse hotline. The caller left a message that would set off an atom bomb in the Escambia County school system for years to come.
That message claimed that Emily Grover and her mother, Laura Carroll, had hacked the Tate High School homecoming election. That tip went straight to Gary Marsh, the former NCIS investigator who could make even the hardest criminal sweat in an interrogation room.
Right away, he set the wheels in motion to launch his internal school district investigation. That's when he showed up at Bellevue Elementary with a piece of paper, ordering Laura Carroll to meet him that afternoon at the district headquarters for the interview you heard earlier.
It's pretty apparent that Emily has probably been accessing the Tate and other schools, but accessing Focus for that information for a significant period of time using your login. Why would she do it? I don't understand.
She probably was doing it for the fact. In order to vote for herself for Homecoming Queen? So you think she's been storing up information? think probably over the last month she probably has been collecting that information maybe even closer to the homecoming time frame because we see a large spike in the access to focus during homecoming week and then it all stops i don't think she'd do that.

Why would you not think she would do that?

I just, she's my kid.

I don't think, no, I don't think she would do that.

Well, how would you feel then if we're being told that Emily's made comments

that my mother did this?

My mother's the one that went into focus and did this. I would say she wouldn't say that either.
It's unclear if Gary is making this up, but he's giving a master class in playing bad cop. Okay.
We'll find out. Because that's my understanding, because what's happened today up at Tate High School? If you say I didn't do it because I don't search those kids, then the odds are of that it's Emily, then I think the answer is pretty evident.
So it's one of the two. I'm going to be very honest with you, there is nobody else.
Okay. Yeah.
To Gary, the evidence was definitive. Laura Carroll was the assistant principal at Bellevue Elementary, and her focus account had accessed the personal information of hundreds of students at Tate High School, a totally different school than the one she worked at.
There was no professional reason to look at any of their information. And every one of those false votes corresponded to those students' focus account having been accessed in the last 30 days of the 200-plus kids that I referenced to you earlier.
So the question goes back to, as Elle Carroll, that's your login for Focus, correct? It is. Okay.
Why would Elle Carroll have made access to over 300 high school students in the Scambia County School District.

I didn't go in and look at any specific kids throughout the school district. Laura Carol maintained her innocence.
She denied all the allegations and any potential involvement in the whole mess. But almost offhand, she does make one admission.
what i've done is do some comparative things, like looking at other kids' attendance, looking at other kids' grades sometimes, because she'll say, everybody failed that test. Or like when she wants to check out early and it's like, well, everybody, there's nobody here, that kind of thing.
You were doing analysis- I'm not doing analysis. I'm just doing parent stuff.
That simple admission, just doing parent stuff, would end up derailing Laura's entire career and turn this story from a gossipy small town scandal into a series of felony charges and national headlines. Anything else, Ms.
Carol? Nothing I know of. Okay, I'll go ahead and end this conversation.
I think we both can understand probably where this goes, unfortunately. Basically, they showed up with eight cop cars at their residential home.
Laura and Emily were gangsters, you know, Al Capone or something. Randy Etheridge is a veteran criminal defense attorney out here in Pensacola.
He's a textbook good old boy, a true back slapper and bullshitter. At least that's the impression I got when I made the six hour trek to Pensacola to speak with him.
Did you drive all the way over here? That's the worst fucking drive in the world. Jeez Louise, ain't nothing but pine trees.
He's a lifelong Floridian who has deep roots in the panhandle. And this case was a bit more personal than most of the cases he dealt with.
I guess it starts with Mr. Bubba Grover.
Bubba, Laura's husband. I should also say here that Bubba isn't his legal name, but it may as well be.
Even the newspapers call him Bubba. How do you know him? Bubba and I, we grew up together.
He's one of my closest friends. We played baseball together, and I told him I would do the case pro bono, obviously, because he's my buddy.
Randy thought this would be a simple favor for a friend. I really thought it was going to be an open and shut thing, you know, that we knock it out real quick and it'll be over with.
Not a big deal. Just move on.
Within weeks of the homecoming election, the school held a disciplinary hearing to figure out what to do with Emily and Laura. And both of them submitted letters to the superintendent, which were, well, thoughtfully worded.
They actually both admit to snooping on other students using Laura's Focus account, and they're sorry for it. Here's what Emily wrote.
There is no excuse for me seeing other people's grades, but insecurities and curiosity led me to poor choices. I 100% know it was wrong and would do anything to undo it, but I had no idea that this much trouble would come from this.
Laura's letter said this. Emily is guilty of looking at information in my Focus account, but the hundreds of students she's alleged to have looked at were viewed by me.

It's because of my negligence that she saw everything she was unauthorized to view.

So, both Emily and Laura fully admitted to spying on other students,

but, and this is a big but,

they didn't say anything about the homecoming election. They took no responsibility for the fraudulent votes.
Their defense was their alibis. You know, Emily had an alibi.
When the fraudulent votes were cast, Randy says Emily was at a slumber party with a friend, whose father worked with the sheriff's department. There's no physical way she could have done what they claimed she did.
I was convinced of that. And Laura said at the time when this was going on that she was running.
She's a runner. And she said, look, during this time frame, I was out doing my jog.
But Laura's alibi gets a little weaker when you consider the fact that the votes had been cast over the course of more than 48 hours, on both Laura's personal and work devices. So, unless Laura was training for an ultramarathon, it was pretty clear that she was the most likely person behind the fraudulent votes.
After a short deliberation, the district expelled Emily just a few months before graduation, and Laura was suspended from her job. Because of her position as assistant principal, in my opinion, they made a conscious decision to make an example out of her to show that this is what we're going to do.
We're going to be strong on stuff like this. Cue the Florida Department of Law Enforcement, the highest police authority in the state.
For them, a data breach and misuse of public school data was a serious allegation. They opened an official investigation into the matter.
They pulled cell tower data, internet service records, and interviewed dozens upon dozens of parents, students, teachers, and administrators. The investigation focused on Laura as the prime suspect.
Again, her devices had cast at least 100 fraudulent votes and had viewed the

focus profiles of every one of those students. For Emily's part, investigators alleged that she had a long history of misusing her mom's focus account to snoop on her classmates, stretching as far back as freshman year.
She would even brag about it to other students. After five months, FDLE agents obtained arrest warrants for Laura Carroll and Emily Grover.
The evidence was pretty damning, but at this point, the worst outcome that Laura and Emily could probably expect was a slap on the wrist in the form of probation and fines. But then, national media got a hold of the story.
And Randy says that's when the shitstorm kicked off. I've been doing this for 37 years.
It's the most bizarre case I've ever had. Done over 100 murder cases and you've tried every kind of case there ever was.
But this case just took off with wings of its own. It became a national media frenzy.
It sounds like it could be something out of a teen movie, but it happened in Escambia County, Florida. This teen has been expelled from school.
Her mom has been fired. The school says hundreds of votes were fake, and most of them came from Carol's phone.
I had at least 100 media people come at me every single day. I swear to goodness, my wife told me you're going to get rid of this case.
The girls, my staff up here said, look, we can't take this anymore. It was every day.
The low-key, I should not have made like national news like that. Our resident high schooler, Gabe Ferguson.
Like, yeah, it was definitely against the law, but it was just like crazy to us to be like, this is what Tate High School is making national news for. Like, be so real, everyone.
It was so just absurd. I don't know if we didn't believe like, oh, it was fake at first, but it was like, this is just so dumb.
Like, why would this girl do it? Like, it's not that deep. But it's easy to see why the story took off.
A mother-daughter duo was placed in handcuffs for allegedly hacking their homecoming election. It's a Mean Girls type plotline that only gets better when you throw the word Florida into the mix.
It was almost too easy to poke fun at them and riff on the absurdity of the whole thing. For a hot minute, Laura and Emily became the biggest villains on TV news.
One, a teen running for homecoming queen is being fitted for handcuffs instead of a tiara.

Homecoming queen bragged about having access to the school's computer system.

I can't imagine somebody wanting it that bad.

Any defense attorney has any sense whatsoever.

You never let your client speak to the media.

So I couldn't allow her to speak to the media.

Now's probably a good time to tell you that we reached out to Emily and Laura, but they declined to speak to us. But back then, they did do one sit-down interview with Good Morning America.
They did without my permission, but they did it anyway. A reporter joined Laura and Emily at their house.
The two sit on their porch, a pot of orange flowers slightly out of focus behind them. Emily keeps smirking as if she can't believe any of this is actually happening.
Laura has a perpetual scowl on her face as she defends herself and her daughter. There's evidence to prove that she could not possibly have done that.
Can you share what that is? I can't, not right now. The reporter turns to Emily.
You have an alibi? A lot of them. Such as? I'm sorry, I can't get into that.
It's a short segment, just over four minutes. Randy says the interview was fair, but it also completely doomed Laura's chances in court.
And that's what, in my opinion, that's what set off the prosecutor's office because they dug in their heels and they felt like, you know, because she wasn't compliant and she wouldn't admit her guilt and wrongdoing that, you know, all deals are off. As a Floridian myself, this was something I was familiar with.
Emily and I share the experience of having our hometowns caricatured as places where human id can run free and unbridled, where tragedy is broadcast as comedy, and where things that might have otherwise been regular small-town news items get blown out into national headlines, simply because they happened in Florida. And this was a prime example of that Florida feedback loop.
Something crazy happens in Florida, local papers report on it, national news picks up on it, the media circus comes to town, and prosecutors double down so they don't look bad. Now, Emily and Laura were each staring down the barrel of felony charges and up to 16 years in prison.
Because Florida, man, I mean, this is the kind of stuff that goes on up here, especially in this particular portion of Florida. It's called Lower Alabama for a reason because they're the most conservative Republican bastion that there is in Florida.
They have the harshest sentencing in the United States. Jail and prison is their answer to most offenses.
Randy was confident about getting Emily's case resolved, and he managed to strike a deal with the prosecutors to put her through a pretrial intervention program. They say, you stay out of trouble for 11 months and the case is dismissed.
That's it. And she never was convicted of anything.
We got the charges dismissed America interview, it was clear that Laura was not going to plead guilty. She was gearing up for a fight, and Randy knew that there were no guarantees once they went to trial.
Laura, the problem I always had that never left was that there's no ifs, ands, or buts. And she told them that she had accessed student stuff, just really innocuous stuff.
But she admitted that anyway, and that was one of the charges. And that's the thing that bothered me as a defense attorney.
Laura had already admitted on tape to misusing focused to check up on Emily's classmates, or as she called it, doing parent stuff. And that made the whole case a lot riskier than Randy anticipated.
But I tell clients all the time, there's two ways a judge will send you to jail or prison. One, if they think you're wasting their time and the taxpayer's money by doing this, or two, if you get on the stand and you lie.
Okay? Those are the two things that will put you away. They'll send you off for that.
And there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that she went trial and lost. There was a strong possibility that Laura, the wife of one of his oldest and closest friends, could go to prison.
And that wasn't something Randy could stomach. Really, the whole thing had become a lot more than he'd bargained for when he took the case a year earlier.

And that really was the last thing that made me want to get off the case.

I could not live with the fact, if she was found guilty,

I was convinced that this judge was going to send her away.

She was going to be incarcerated,

either for a year in the county jail or state prison.

And I couldn't do that to my friend. That's why I got off the case.
I just wasn't worth it anymore, especially since I was doing it for free.

Randy notified the court that he'd be leaving

the case and passed off the file to another well-known lawyer in the area.

It's really, really good. A lot better than me.
He's a younger, better-looking

version of me. And a hell of a lawyer.
My name is Chris Crawford. And I'm known to take high profile cases in the local Gulf Coast area.
Randy had asked Chris to take this case because Chris is a trial lawyer. He's calm under pressure, exudes natural ease, and yeah, he's annoyingly handsome too.
I got an understanding of what was happening from Randy. And then all of a sudden there was kind of like this explosion of information.
We had forensic experts. It just got to the point where, you know, the state attorney's office had three or four experts.
We had an expert, which is so rare in a criminal case. The state was using every avenue they had to gather evidence.
Nothing was off limits. The law enforcement, FDLE, they're literally interrogating 30 to 40 kids.
They would show up at kids' house randomly. Hey, we're from Florida Department of Law Enforcement.

When we would get the recordings, you could immediately tell that these are teenage kids that want nothing to do with this. The high school kids did not care at all.
They're like, oh, we're still talking about that? That's what you guys are here investigating? I don't know anything. That was 30, 40 interviews just like this.
And what I'm telling you is the amount of time that they ran around the town, went to all these different schools trying to get these kids because some of the kids would go to different schools at this point. Some kids had even graduated.
It seemed like such a drastic law enforcement reaction all over a simple school kid scam. But Chris says it's important to think about this case as two separate things.
First, there was the accusation of the homecoming election scheme. right, like that's what gave it this good story aspect.
That's what gave it the fantasy and the emotion and everything else. That's what the media latched onto.
That's what turned this whole case into a Ripley's believe it or not national news story. But truthfully, none of that really mattered.
It was all about that one interview Laura did in the office with the investigator and some other guy. She's admitting to violating the law.
What I've done is do some comparative things, like looking at other kids' attendance, looking at other kids' grades sometimes. So I'm just doing parent stuff.
This was the actual meat and potatoes of the case. This is what was really on trial here.
So all the other technical stuff about the election and all this kind of mystery of what was actually going on at the end didn't matter because they had her admission that she's accessing student profiles outside of the confines of her job. And that is what they were really putting a lot of emphasis on, that that was the key to their case.
And it wasn't just the prosecutors and the judge that saw the case this way. According to Gabe, our resident high schooler, this was how a lot of people in Pensacola saw the story.
I mean, like her looking at private information, like health information and grades and stuff like that, and like hearing that she was like flaunting that to people, that's what people were really upset about. Like everyone kind of moved away from the homecoming part where like you actively invaded so many students' privacy.
Like you have no clue what another student is going through. And to like flex that you know their private information is so incredibly immoral.
In his own way, Chris agreed that locals weren't concerned with the homecoming election part of this story. Did people in Escambia County really care that much about it? Locally, people thought it was ridiculous that we were wasting so much time and money going after this family.
Truthfully, it wasn't like there was parents screaming and shouting about this. The parents were more upset about these FDLE agents.
And, you know, imagine these higher level law enforcement agents showing up at their front door wanting to talk to their kids. That's what the parents were more upset about.
But elsewhere, this is like some kind of crazy southern small town story to them. To outsiders, this case seemed to confirm stereotypes of a sleazy backward South that still cared deeply about old school traditions.
It was dance moms meets daughters of the Confederacy. And Gabe, being a part of the rumor mill in Pensacola, saw a lot more of that side of things.
It's like a bad representation of the community as well, which is like even more

upsetting. But being in the deep South meant everyone was in everyone else's business.
It's

a rural small town where like, it's not just the kids who know everything about everyone's business,

but their parents know everyone else. So quite a few of them fed into that and like,

talked bad about like a 17, 18 year old girl as like a 40 year old person did i laugh a hundred percent but it was still just like a you are definitely a 40 something year old person writing hate and saying mean things about an 18 year old who hasn't seen the real world so like there was small pockets of that but i'd say just as a general community it was that like disappointment in the situation um i feel bad like not even loki like i do feel bad that the girl got drugged the way she did like i said not a single person trusts her like i know back at home i think that it could have been a very great learning moment for the entire community to be like, okay, you guys, homecoming is not that serious. This girl literally risked her academic career and her life over this.
And to us, it just wasn't worth it. It was not worth the plastic tiara.
In the end, Emily did get to go to University of West Florida and join the same sorority as her sister. She's done her best to put this behind her and just be a regular college kid, partying with her friends and going on beach vacations.
And even though Emily's charges were dismissed and record expunged, her lawyer, Randy Etheridge, says that she didn't exactly get off scot-free. Yeah, she got expelled.
She didn't get to finish her senior year. She didn't get to experience her senior year of playing tennis.
Basically, her whole life has been affected by this, and she didn't do a damn thing, in my opinion. And I go to my grave saying that, too.
There's no doubt that she had absolutely nothing to do with this whatsoever. Zero.
And Laura, for her part, eventually pled no contest to a single felony count. The use of a two-way communication device to facilitate a felony charge and was given 18 months of probation.
The rest of her charges were thrown out. But now she's filed an appeal claiming that the admission she made to the school investigator, Gary Marsh, should not be admissible in court.
She was a school employee being interviewed by a school official and knew her job was on the line. So Laura's attorneys claim that she was just saying what she needed to say to protect herself.
The judge in Laura's trial didn't agree with that and allowed the tape to remain on the record. She still doesn't admit any guilt whatsoever.

She maintains her innocence, and I have to respect that.

That's what she says. She didn't do it.

So if she says she didn't, that's part of my job,

is to believe what she said.

After everything that came out of this small-town scandal, the arrest, the felony charges, the media whirlwind,

the expulsion, suspensions, and firings,

the biggest irony of the whole thing

was that Emily could very well have won the homecoming election, even if a little fishy. This has been Big Time, an Apple original podcast produced by Peace of Work Entertainment and Campside Media in association with Olive Productions.
It's hosted by me, Steve Buscemi. This episode was reported and produced by Rajiv Gola and Morgan Jaffe.
Our story editor is Audrey Quinn. Lane Rose is our showrunner and managing producer.
Our production team includes Rajiv Gola, Morgan Jaffe,

and associate producer,

Danya Abdelhamid.

Fact-checking by Mary Mathis.

Sound design and mixing by Shawnee Averon.

Our theme was written by

Nicholas Principe and Peter Silberman

of Spatial Relations.

Production help from Matt Rand.

Campside Media's executive producers

are Josh Dean, Vanessa Gregoriadis, Adam Hoff, and Matt Scher. Thanks for listening.