" Previously on Lucifer..." " Still no sign of Lucifer?" "It's been two weeks." "He's gone." "Detective!" "Meet Candy Morningstar, my wife." "Lucifer's concocting a plan." "What if there is no hidden agenda, Mom?" "Why would I be surprised?" "You disappeared after I almost died?" "Does Chloe know that you zagged Candy?" "Everything I felt for her was smoke and mirrors, courtesy of Dad." "So it's okay to ignore her feelings?" "Feelings that aren't real." "But she doesn't know that." "Which is why I had to save her!" "From you." "I manipulated him." "I pushed him too hard." "I did this." "The Oscar goes to Candy Morningstar." "You think they bought it?" "My mother doesn't know what hit her." "Thank you for helping me peek inside that scheming head of hers." "What if I told you that the Flaming Sword is" "Azrael's blade?" "The weapon that can cut through the Gates of Heaven itself." "We have everything we need to go home." "Azrael's blade." "You're sure?" "I am." "So if we could just get your brother to stop drinking and show us where he hid it..." "I just wanted you to tell him what you told me, before I make a mess." "What mess are you going to..." "That's where it's been this whole time?" "Put it somewhere I could keep an eye on it." "Wouldn't want someone to incite another stabbing rampage, now, would we?" "Well, it's not my fault humans can't handle the divine." "Besides, if I hadn't done that, we wouldn't have found out what that blade actually is." "And you really think that this is the Flaming Sword?" "I thought Father destroyed it during my rebellion so I wouldn't use it against Him." "Father said He destroyed it." "Apparently, He just hid it in plain sight." "But it's so small and so... not flaming." "That's because only you, my Lightbringer, can ignite it." "Well, what am I supposed to do, dip it in some whiskey and light a match?" "Last time it caught flame, you were angry, so think about your Father;" "that should do it." "All right." "No!" "Right, back to my whiskey plan." "No, you're much too calm." "When it flamed before, you were furious." "So you're saying the blade can sense my emotional state?" "It's the most powerful weapon in the universe, Mum..." "The sword that guarded Eden, not a groovy mood ring." "Maybe I should try it." "Your brother is the Lightbringer, Amenadiel." "He just needs to apply himself and get angry!" "Well, I can't just get ang..." "Aah!" "Bloody hell!" "Well, it was worth a shot." "Right." "Maybe Amenadiel should try it." "Here, why don't you hold it, and I'll kick you in the..." "Boys!" "We need to work together on this." "We're so close now." "Are we, Mom?" "Because our return home hinges on Lucifer being able to control his emotions." "Oh, you've no faith in me, brother?" "Good." "Means I get to prove you wrong." "So the three of you plan to use this..." "Flaming Sword to cut through the Gates of Heaven and go home?" "That's the plan, yes." "Do you mean actual gates?" "Like big and pearly?" "Are we talking clouds?" "Harps?" "Old dudes in white robes?" "And my dad is Morgan Freeman?" "Focus, Doctor." "Now, come on." "I need you to help me control my emotions." "Well, emotions can't be controlled, Lucifer." "What?" "Isn't that your entire job?" "My job is to help you understand your emotions." "I can help you become aware of what it is you're feeling, or trying to avoid feeling." "Right, you've got that look on your face when you're saying something insightful and waiting for me to figure it out." "I think you married her to hide something." "Or from something." "Right, look, what I may or may not be hiding is beside the point, Doctor." "Either way, I need the sword lit." "So, come on." "Emotions." "Chop, chop." "You clearly have a lot of walls up, Lucifer." "Between yourself and your emotions, and now between yourself and me." "If you're unwilling to bring those walls down," "I can't help you." "What the hell, Decker?" "No breakfast?" "Oh, I forgot." "Sorry." "You forgot?" "Chloe Decker forgot?" "Are you okay?" "What did you do with my roommate?" "She would never ask about my feelings." "Oh, feelings?" "No, I was thinking brain tumor, early-onset dementia, chlamydia." "Uh, well, yeah." "I guess I'm still a little upset that Lucifer just disappeared on me and got married just when we were..." "You know, I don't know what we were." "And sure, he got it annulled right away, but, you know, that almost makes it worse." "Focus on Trixie." "And I'm-I'm worried about her." "Have you noticed anything?" "You have?" "Okay, I'm gonna adopt a dozen puppies, and I'm gonna let them sleep in your bedroom." "Nice, Maze." "Nice." "Come on." "I'm sorry." "Okay, I can't deal with human emotions on an empty stomach." "Makes me... nauseous." "Of course." "What did I expect?" "Oh, come on." "Tall, non-fat almond milk latte with sugar-free caramel drizzle and no vodka this time." "What's the occasion?" "Well, I thought we should celebrate our first day together as crime-solving divorcees." "Ah, making a joke you don't like." "Check." "See?" "We'll be back to normal in no time." "Uh, not until you start whining about how boring the case is." "Well, touché, Detective." "Our victim's name is Debbie Lang." "She worked as the head of administrations of a very prestigious elementary school on the Westside called... called Starford." "How could a career in education pay for all this?" "L.A. private schools are insane." "You know, money gets thrown around." "What do we have?" "Well, poor Debbie was stabbed in the back, literally." "Maybe figuratively, too." "There was no signs of BE, which suggests she knew who her killer was." "Anyone recover the murder weapon?" "No, not yet." "You'd think knife, but the circumference of the wound is unusually wide, like it was a... fat knife." "PhD in psychology, certificate for behavioral therapy." "I should have thought this woman had figured out human interaction, yet she provoked someone into killing her?" "Therapists don't really know anything, do they?" "Ooh, Lucifer's projecting his personal issues on the case." "Guess we're back to normal." "Ah, man." "I got into it with my shrink a couple of weeks ago." "What?" "You see a psychologist?" "I know." "You wouldn't think so, right?" "'Cause I'm so upbeat all the time." "But up here..." "lot of darkness." " Really?" " Hey, guys?" "What's this?" "Well, where do I start?" "Missing commemorative scissors." "Looks like we found our fat knife." "Or didn't find it, but, you know." "So, weapon of convenience." "Could have been a crime of passion." "Vic knew the killer, so we should go to the school where she worked." "I, uh..." "I just can't believe it." "You know, Debbie was the best head of admissions we've ever had, the heart and soul of the Starford community." "We're all devastated." "Is there any way we could see her office or the last few things she was working on?" "Sure." "No phones on campus, please." "Sends a message that our arms aren't actually available to our children." "Right." "Detective, this school is weird, and, yes, this case is boring." "Not weird." "Unique." "Our groundbreaking pedagogical approach focuses on emotional self-control." "Emotional self-control?" "How'd you go about that, then?" "Lucifer, can you go back to being bored, and not derail the conversation?" "No, no, but this is fascinating, Detective." "The so-called expert" "I just consulted insisted emotions can't be controlled." "Well, we respectfully disagree." "Um, our children learn to manage their emotions in no time." "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" "Let the schooling begin!" "You see, we make our students' emotional needs the priority." "Whence our motto." ""Sentio ergo sum."" ""I feel, therefore I am." Hmm." "Hmm." "Fascinating." "Let's just stick to the case." "Hold on, Detective." "Debbie isn't going to un-die, is she?" "Whereas I require immediate assistance." "Look, yes, how long does it take for rug rats to gain emotional self-control?" "Oh, our methods work very quickly." "The parents see it for themselves after sitting in on just one class." "Notice all the, um, testimonials." "Yes." "So, Debbie." "Did she have any enemies here at work that you know of?" "You see, our faculty practices the same conflict-resolution method as our children." "People in a conflict actually present handmade gifts to one another." "This was Debbie's desk, and, as you can see, not a single macramé." "What about outside the faculty?" "Any recent incidents with parents maybe?" "Nothing like that would ever happen Starford." "Oh, weird, 'cause heads of admissions at other prestigious private schools are practically stalked by eager parents, so, maybe the spots here at Starford just aren't as coveted." "Not so." "No, parents go above and beyond to get their children here at Starford." "And they go absolutely crazy when they fail to land a spot." "Just the other day..." "Well, perhaps there was one incident." "Debbie did get into a rather ugly fight with the parents of a child who'd been denied admission." " It got vicious." " Ooh." "Fisticuffs?" "Beat-down at the bike sheds after the final bell?" "No, verbally vicious." "Ah, terrible grammar." "Mm-hmm." "Got you." "Did you see the fight?" "Everyone saw it." "It happened right in front of the school, violating what we like to think of as our safe space here at Starford." "What was said?" "I will kill you." "That is what I said, yes." "But you have to understand." "I was furious that she'd rejected our son, Wolfe." "If you have children, I'm sure you can relate." "A Starford education feeds almost directly to the Ivy League." "Debbie took our money and crushed our son's future." "What do you mean?" "What money?" "Well, she implied that a hefty contribution to the school would grease the wheels on Wolfe's admission." "So you made the contribution and Wolfe was still rejected?" "Yes." "We felt we'd been... misled." "More like robbed." "And then, when we tried to bring it up to Debbie, she had the gall to suggest that the school hadn't received the donation." "But the check cleared!" "Lying..." "I know my husband's temper suggests otherwise, but we're dealing with this the civilized way..." "Through our lawyer." "We could never kill anyone." "Then can you explain why the murder weapon was found in your pool house?" "Are you Lucifer Morningstar?" "I am, yes." "But sadly, I don't have the time to give you the most amazing night of your life." "I'm busy dealing with this impenetrable book." "Mr. Morningstar, you're under arrest." "I am now, am I?" "On what charge?" "Ladies, he's resisting arrest." "Cuff him." "My pleasure." "Right, why do you sexy detectives look so disturbingly familiar?" "Mum!" "Mum, come on." "Come on out from wherever you're snooping." "What?" "Ah." "I tried to find ones that resemble your detective." "Then again, all humans look alike to me." "No, you did, um, well, remarkably well." "But what on Earth for?" "Since anger didn't work, I wanted to incite a different emotion." "See if that would get the sword fired up." "A foursome isn't an emotion, Mum." "Ladies, I'm sorry, but, uh, it's hard for me to enjoy a triple-Decker with my mum's hands all over it, so..." "Another time, maybe." "Shame." "Don't look so glum." "It's just a matter of time before I get a handle on my emotions." "I know it's a matter of time." "That's the problem." "What's the rush?" "Not like eternity's got a "best before" date." "You'd understand if you had children." "Many of which you haven't seen in a millennia." "Yes." "That's it, Mum." "You're right." "I need to have a child." "Right, have a gander at that." "See if you can learn a few things." "Mm-hmm." "Right, well, it seemed like something wasn't adding up." "Yeah, okay." "Thanks, Ella." "Okay." "I am gonna tie a bell around your neck at some point." "Oh, sounds like a fun bit of foreplay, but I've more important things to attend to first." "Yeah, I'm sure you do, but hold on." "Something's bothering me." "The killer wiped the fingerprints off the handle, but not Debbie's blood from the blade." "But the scissors were found at their home, correct?" "In the unlocked pool house, so anyone could have gained access to it." "So you think the killer planted the murder weapon on the couple last seen fighting with the victim." "That's admirably devious." "Jon and Craig said that their check cleared." "But Debbie told them the school never received their money." "So she's lying." "But what if she wasn't lying?" "What if somebody embezzled the money at the school?" "Debbie could have found out, she could have confronted them." "They could be the killer." "So, you know, what we got to do... check the books, see if there's a record of a donation." "Right." "Baby, why are you still in your PJs?" "You're gonna miss the bus." "I don't have time to drive you to school today." "Hold on." "Why don't you go and deal with the donation thingy, and I can, uh, take the little sh... ugar plum fairy to school." "Are you sure?" "For my partner?" "Yes, I can sacrifice." "You okay with that?" "Brilliant." "You're gonna be in trouble if my mom finds out." "What?" "I said I'd drive you to school." "I never specified which one." "So, play along, and I'll deliver my end of the bargain." "Mr. Morningstar?" "Yes." "Hey." "Mr. Taylor." "Ah." "You're here for the Starford tour?" "I am indeed." "I am indeed." "And this little creature, who gets whatever she wants..." "Trixie Morningstar." "Nice to meet you, sir." "Hi." "Ah, lovely." "So, right upstairs there is our plant-based kitchen." "Uh, it's where the students make their own lunch." "You know, instead of packaged, preprocessed foods, we, uh, we like them to bring in, uh..." "Sorry, do we have to touch?" "Don't you have a leash or something for when we go out?" "Do you want to sell this or not?" "It's a lot of fun..." "Yes, that's all quite riveting." "Um, where is it where children learn to, you know, harness their emotions?" "Uh... uh..." "Hold on." "Uh, sorry, this isn't my normal job." "I'm just filling in till we find a replacement for poor Debbie." "Oh, well, what is it you normally do?" "Uh, I'm the movement and wellness mentor." "So you're the P.E. teacher." "Lovely." "Okay, well, right here, this is the, uh, meditation room." "Um, and then, right next door is, uh, it's where the kids do their justice circles." "I need you to show me where they teach lessons on controlling your emotions." "Oh." "She's having emotional problems?" "Who?" "Oh, the child." "Sure." "Probably." "Listen, what would be really helpful is turning feelings into something, like a weapon." "Well, I think I know just the class." "You do?" "Wonderful." "Great." "Come on, child." "And you want to look through our ledgers... why?" "Because we want to know if Debbie was telling the truth about the missing donation, and it could tie into the motive for the murder." "I knew it." "You got me." "No need to look at the books." "I did it." "The donation never made it into the school account." "I cashed the check." "You stole the money?" "Why?" "I guess I was tired of feeling like I didn't belong." "Starford seemed so nonjudgmental and inclusive." "But I'm-I'm under a lot of pressure to look a certain way, drive a certain car." "And my salary barely covers my rent." "Okay, so Debbie found out that you took" "Jon and Craig's donation money and... did you kill her?" "What?" "No, no." "Debbie assumed the parents never extended the check." "They called her a liar, got so upset, and they killed her." "But I'm to blame." "I'm sorry." "Look, we're not real sure if Jon and Craig killed Debbie." "Really?" "Oh." "If it's not related to the murders, after all, um, perhaps we could disregard... that last exchange." "Uh, is everything okay in here?" "Sounded like a child was crying." "We're just asking the assistant dean some questions." "Uh, I am Detective Decker." "This is Detective..." "Oh, you're Trixie's cop-mom, aren't you?" "That's a great kid you've got." "Thank you." "H-How do you know..." "How do you know my daughter?" "She's in Madison's class right now." "Yeah, her father brought her in." "Um..." "I'm pretty sure he didn't." "Uh, can you finish getting the statement, please, and I'll see whatever the hell Lucifer is doing." "But the good news is bad feelings can be harnessed into good actions." "My son Ranger knows this." "Right, Ranger?" "Would anyone else like to try?" "Yeah." "Would any of the children like to volunteer?" "For a progressive school, it's rather ageist." "Trixie." "Do you have feelings you want to use?" "I know it's only your first time, but..." "I feel sad." "Okay, why?" "Because... my mommy almost died." "Her job is scary." "But she has helped so many other people with their problems," "I don't want her to worry about mine." "So I pretend I'm okay." "Well... welcome to the club of parental deceit, child." "It's a lonely place, but, uh, that's the price of being clever." "Okay, now what?" "How does one control that juvenile angst usefully?" "Trixie can channel her strong feelings into something productive." "Okay, go on." "For example, she could... write a poem." "A poem?" "I came here to learn how to turn emotions into energy, not to become Dr. Seuss." "Well, creative energy is energy." "Oh, come on." "If I wanted to attend an art class," "I would have at least had the sense to take one with a nude model." "I suppose you're channeling emotional despair over not getting dessert before your veggies, are you?" "No." "This is a picture of my mommy stabbing Debbie." "Lucifer." "Detective." "Right, before you chastise me for kidnapping your offspring," "I've solved the case." "Okay, the boy's mother is Joy Sherman." "This is her contact info." "Okay, I'll look into it." "Is Trixie okay?" "I'll talk to her." "I'll see you at the station, okay?" "Yeah." "Ah, Detective." "You need to understand, I'm dealing with a most challenging issue..." "Yeah, I want to talk to my daughter for a second." "Please don't be mad at him." "I should be the one in trouble." "Oh..." "I'm not mad at you." "You're not in trouble, Monkey." "I do want you to know you can talk to me if something's going on." "I know." "You know that?" "You want to talk about something now?" "I could tell you anything?" "Yes." "I'd like to ride with Lucifer." "I promise I'll make him take me to my actual school this time." "Huh." "Um, yeah, okay." "You are lucky my daughter likes you so much." "Yes, I'm starting to respect the deceptive little parasite." "Oh, well, that's nice." "Speaking of, a deal's a deal." "What?" "Oh, no." "I..." "Driving lessons will have to wait until your mum's not looking." "Bye, babe." "Oh, kids." "Ah." "Wonderful, a mugger." "Come on, then." "I fancy a bit of exercise after a frustrating day." "Mum?" "Let me see the blade." "Anything?" "Since when can you hit so hard?" "My strength has been growing steadily." "As is your recklessness, it seems." "I mean, what did you expect me to do?" "Stab you with the blade and have it be ignited by my joy?" "I was trying to get you worked up." "Anger and awakening your sexual instincts didn't work." "I..." "I thought maybe if you were afraid for your life..." "Well, if you really wanted to upset me, you should have just thrown me into the Corvette." "Don't... throw me into the Corvette." "Just trust me, Mum." "I'm dealing with this." "Clearly, not fast enough." "Why are you so angry?" "I'm not angry!" "Yes, you are." "Just... really need to get home, where we belong." "Soon." "Hey, Chlo, we got that kid's mom in inter..." "What's wrong?" "Look at this e-mail." "Why are you being invited to a "grieving gathering"" "at Starford Academy?" "'Cause Trixie's being considered for admission." "Apparently, she impressed some of the teachers there." "Or they were impressed with Lucifer's bank account." "It's probably the only thing they care about at that pretentious place." "Well, I mean, it is non-traditional, that's for sure." "Wait, are you actually considering it?" "Uh..." "I mean, don't you think that with the divorce and the move and everything that Trixie's had enough big changes lately?" "Exactly." "Trixie's pretending that she's fine, Dan." "One morning at Starford, and she's been opening up like I haven't been able to get her to do for months." "You didn't see her." "Yeah, well, it kills me to think that she, uh, she's been keeping up an act just to protect us." "When did our kid get so adult?" "She does still hide chocolate cake under the bed, though." "Yeah, well, thank God for that." "Okay, well, maybe we can consider sending our daughter to that school after we've solved the ongoing murder investigation there." "Can you explain to us why your son would draw this, Ms. Sherman?" "I'm not sure what it even is." "He says it's you killing Debbie." "Oh, he was listening to me." "He never listens to me." "So you said that you killed Debbie?" "No, I-I said I wanted to kill her." "Every morning, while peeling the sticker off some root vegetable I got at the supermarket for a third of the price of the organic crap." "Rubbing it in dirt works like a charm, by the way." "Hmm." "Why would you say that to him?" "Because I'm single and I work full-time, and Debbie had a million little ways of making me feel like a bad mom because of it." "For working?" "Yeah." "Well, that sounds like a great environment." "Apparently, I wasn't "involved enough."" "Like, I'm sorry that my bake sale cupcakes weren't gluten and dairy free, Debbie." "Joy, where were you two nights ago?" "Tuesday?" "Mm-hmm." "Um, I was, I was with Mr. Taylor." "Mr. Taylor?" "The wellness mentor?" "What were you doing?" "We weren't discussing the French New Wave." "Oh." "So you're having an affair with the... with the P.E. teacher." "Only on Tuesday nights." "He had a busy schedule." "Look, every mom at Starford knows that the movement and wellness program is one of the best benefits of the school." "I mean, the man is as dumb as a box of hair, but he does know how to move." "While I check into your alibi, uh, can you tell us, are there any other people that you can think of that had a grudge against Debbie?" "Are you, are you kidding?" "Who didn't hate the Wicked Witch of the Westside?" "She held the keys to the most exclusive school in the city, and she never let anyone forget it." "We were told that she was very well loved." "Well, the hairlines and the perky boobs aren't the only phony things at that school." "You want to know who killed her?" "You should go to that grieving gathering they're throwing." "All her frenemies will be there." "Never seen you so worried about an outfit, Decker." "Not picking up the first coat off the floor as usual?" "Nope." "No, I'm not." "I am going to a grieving gathering at the school, and, well, you should see the other parents." "They are very fancy." "It's..." "You know what?" "Never mind." "I don't want to make you sick with my feelings." "No." "Come on." "I'm listening, I promise." "No more earbuds." "Okay, Trixie might get into this private school, and it could be really, really good for her." "But it's super exclusive, and I'm not sure that I want her in that kind of environment." "That's what you're so worried about?" "Mm-hmm." "All right." "A school like that is great for Trixie." "You think so?" "Yeah." "Fancy-pants rich kids?" "They're like vipers, okay?" "Trixie will learn to slash them with her words." "Then I will teach her the knives." "Oh, okay." "I think..." "I know you're trying to help, but, uh, I don't think you can help me with..." "with this now." "Hi." "Uh, Chloe Decker." "Uh, Trixie's mom." "Just you?" "Alone?" "Just me, alone." "Yeah." "Aw." "That must be difficult." "Actually, she's with me." "Oh." "Two mommies?" "Oh, hell yeah." "Um..." "Trixie's a handful, definitely a two-woman job." "Right, honey?" "Mm-hmm." "Yeah." "What are you doing here?" "Look, I'm not good at listening." "Or talking about emotion stuff." "But I do know you don't let your girl go into enemy territory alone." "Thank you." "Oh, wow." "I guess networking is the new grieving." "Mm-hmm." "You're Trixie's moms, right?" "Mm." "I'm the event coordinator here." "I just wanted to tell you that we'd be so happy to have you as part of the family." "Mid-afternoon yoga always needs more volunteers." "Oh." "I would love to, but mid-afternoons," "I'm at my job." "Oh." "Yeah." "She's a homicide detective." "Oh." "She has a gun and everything." "A real pistol in the sack, too." "Oh!" "Jokester." "I wish I had time for a job." "But you know what they say:" "exceptional child, exhausted mom." "Mm-hmm." "I've never heard anyone say that." "Doesn't makes sense." "Maze, look at everybody." "Look at these parents." "Who has a kid and is this put together?" "Use those detective skills, Decker." "Get out of your own head." "Look around." "All right." "That entire table over there is just waiting for that couple to go nuclear." "Oh, when that woman walked in, the entire room started commenting on her cheek-filler." "Hmm." "They're miserable." "And waiting to tear each other apart." "Actually... reminds me of home." "Hmm." "You know what?" "You're right." "They love gossip." "And the juicier, the better." "You know what?" "Let's give them something to talk about." "Don't do that." "Careful, brother." "Too much of that will make you go blind." "Mom was right." "I can't make it work." "Ah, I see." "You're up here practicing a different kind of self-flagellation, are you?" "Hoping for a celestial spark?" "You don't even have your powers." "Yeah, thanks for that reminder, Luci." "You know, I also don't seem to have much of Mom's attention anymore." "Because, unlike you," "I don't have some glorious destiny to wield the sword." "And what's so great about Mum's attention?" "She nearly killed me in the car park earlier, trying to help me achieve that destiny." "Oh, good job warning me she's strong enough to lift a house, by the way." "Same old Luci, always the victim." "Can't you just be grateful for once?" "You're the Lightbringer!" "Am I?" "Am I, indeed?" "'Cause so far, it's just Mum's word against, well, reality." "What if she's wrong, brother?" "She's been acting very odd recently." "On edge." "This obsession with getting home, it's a bit much, don't you think?" "You see, I thought we all wanted to go back." "You know I don't lie, brother." "So trust me when I say nothing would make me happier than Mum getting her wish." "Then you need to stop fighting this, Luci, and find a way to get the sword to work." "Because whether we like it or not, it is all on you." "Lightbringer." "You, uh, call this pâté, huh?" "I know, right?" "You know, say what you will about Debbie, but that woman knew how to cater a party." "You're married to that cop, right?" "Yeah." "Actually, can you keep a secret?" "My wife is very close to making an arrest." "We think the killer might actually be here." "She found evidence just tonight." "DNA." "It's in the car right now." "Somebody here is going to jail." "Oh, but keep that on the DL, all right?" "Knuckles." "Five gossips down, a couple more to be safe." "No, look, this is plenty." "Let's hope they take the bait." "Okay, all I have to do now is stake out the car;" "if the killer is here, they'll go out there for the evidence." "Ah." "Just the person I'm looking for." "Mr. Morningstar." "Yes." "Look, I'm willing to give your Kumbaya curriculum a second look." "Perhaps if I'm more specific about what I want out of it:" "uh, less watercolors, more, sort of, heavenly flames?" "Are you following me?" "Sorry, do you need something out of the detective's car?" "Uh, uh, yeah, she-she asked me to grab something for her." "Ah." "Well, let's get that over with, so we can focus on what's important: me." "Uh, don't tell her I, uh, got a copy made." "She gets all fussy about things like illegal duplicates." "So, uh, do you do private tutoring?" "'Cause I'm free most of the time." "Specifically now." "Yeah." "Lucifer, what are you doing?" "Uh, Madison said she needed something from your car." "What?" "She's the killer." "That's quite a leap, Detective." "No, it isn't." "Lucifer, please, she..." "My gun's in the car." "Well, why didn't you tell me all this earlier?" "Put your hands up." "Stay back!" "Stay back!" "Madison, put down the gun." "Yes." "Perhaps if you channel your feelings into something other than bullets, that might..." "Okay." "I said stay back!" "Okay, got it." "Oh, you!" "This is all your fault!" "With your stupid handsome face and your chiseled abs and your huge..." "You slept with the P.E. teacher, too?" "Well, the movement and wellness mentor, Detective, but..." "Madison, if I've learned anything here tonight, it's that everyone here has secrets." "No one's perfect." "Okay?" "But we didn't have sex." "Well, I mean, okay, one time." "But, come on, that was, like, years ago." "One time was all it took." "This is about your son, isn't it?" "What?" "You mean the boy in the class with the special diet of boogers and paste?" "Lucifer." "I..." "God knows I love Ranger, but he's not very smart." "My husband is, and that witch Debbie put two and two together." "And she told you that she was gonna expose Mr. Taylor as Ranger's real father." "She hated how all the moms loved him." "My husband would've left me." "Madison, I understand." "You were just thinking of your son's future." "I-I get it." "I-I'm a mother, too." "Um, maybe you remember Trixie, my daughter." "Th-The little girl who was sad because her mom had such a scary job." "That's me." "She's my daughter." "So, please," "Madison, put down the gun." "I'm so sorry." "I-I got so angry," "I couldn't control myself." "What?" "Hold on." "All this talk about controlling your emotions and harnessing them for creation was all just a sham?" "I tried so hard to make it real." "We can't control our emotions." "We just have to keep try..." "Listening to feelings, it's not my thing." "Right, honey?" "You know, if I were you," "I'd take my child out of this school." "Terrible place." "Wait." "I'm a father?" "That's awesome." "Here you go." "How cute this guy is." "So..." "I went back to that school today." "And I think they'd let you in if you wanted to go." "So how do you feel about that?" "Well, can I tell you how it made me feel being there?" "Well, at first, it made me feel insecure and worried." "I mean, the school is so fancy, and all the other mommies seemed so perfect." "But guess what I found out." "What?" "That the other mommies, they were just as worried as I was." "And they were just pretending to be perfect." "Is it bad to pretend?" "No, not always, Monkey." "I mean, sometimes people feel like... like they have to pretend that everything's okay." "But..." "And this is the most important part..." "You and me, we never have to pretend with each other." "I really didn't like that school." "I didn't like it either." "Thanks for telling me, Monkey." "It turns out you were right, Doctor." "It's impossible to control your feelings." "And anyone who does risks turning into a murderous lunatic with a child of below-average intelligence, so..." "Yeah, well, I'm sure at least some of that, that's inaccurate." "But I'm glad you've come around." "Are you ready to be more forthcoming now?" "Yes, I suppose." "If that's what it takes to get you to help me." "So... um..." "I wasn't lying before, obviously." "I do intend to use the Flaming Sword to cut through the Gates of Heaven." "But what you left out...?" "Is that once I do that," "I plan on kicking Mum into Heaven and slamming the gates on her backside." "But she'll be trapped there, on her own." "Won't God destroy her?" "Hopefully, they tear each other apart." "Then they'll both get what they deserve." "What's that?" "Punishment." "For manipulating me." "I mean, Dad set a trap for me, but Mum was the one who made sure that I fell into it." "She was the one that made sure that I felt... that I... that I felt things that I don't want to feel anymore." "That, right there, that what you stopped yourself from feeling, that's exactly what you need to feel." "What, the anger?" "Oh, I feel it." "Not the anger." "The pain." "That's what you've been suppressing." "All the pain and heartbreak that you have over what happened with your mother." "And Chloe." "I know it's difficult." "But the only way to get over that pain... is to go through it." "So you think you've figured it out?" "Yes." "And you're sure this time?" "Just... let me do it, Mum, please." "That's it?" "!" "You must not be feeling enough!" "Trust me." "That's it." "That's all I've got!" "You have to try harder." "What?" "Try harder!" "Mom!" "That's enough!" "I'm not broken." "The sword must be." "Okay." "Okay, then we'll fix it." "There's plenty of time." "Of course." "You're right, son." "There's plenty of time." "Just not for me."