“So tell me,” Mrs. Johnson says, “what has she done? What do you need?”

I hesitate, debating how much to say. It’s very clear from speaking to Monica’s mother that she has no idea about the arrangement we have together. “When is the last time you spoke to Monica?”

“Like I said, over a year.” She shakes her head. “These days, my husband and I only intervene when it’s required. Not like when she was younger.”

“There have been some thefts at work,” I say. Better not to mention the murder. I don’t want to put this woman on high alert. “We’re trying to get to the bottom of it.”

“Monica’s always at the bottom of it,” she sighs. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. But it gets to the point where you just get exhausted by it all. Ever since she was a teenager…”

Mrs. Johnson stops, clearly realizing it would be in her daughter’s best interest not to go on.

“Mrs. Johnson,” I say, in my most professional voice. “I like Monica very much. She’s an excellent employee. I want to help her. And it would help me to know what she’s going through, because… well, it’s all going to come out soon anyway.”

I hold my breath, waiting to see if the woman will believe my lies. She narrows her eyes.

“An excellent employee?” Mrs. Johnson snorts. “That’s hard to believe.”

“It’s true. She’s very skilled and organized and—”

“Yes, but she’s crazy!” The woman’s brown eyes are wide, and for a moment, she looks a bit crazy herself. “I’m sorry if this hurts Monica, but it’s probably in your best interest to let her go. Before she does even more damage. Take it from someone who knows.”

“What do you mean?” I ask carefully.

“It’s not entirely her fault, you understand.” Mrs. Johnson’s shoulders sag. “I think she tries to do the right thing. Well, sometimes, at least. But she’s… well, the psychiatrists have disagreed on the diagnosis a bit…” Psychiatrists? “Most of them agree she has severe borderline personality disorder.”

My mouth falls open. We checked out Monica’s medical records so thoroughly. How did we miss a major psychiatric disorder?

“Borderline personality disorder?”

She nods. “Like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction? That movie where she murdered the rabbit?”

Oh great. I picked a rabbit-murdering psychopath to be the mother of my child.

“The doctors have tried so many medications to try to help her,” she goes on. Medications? Like, plural? “But none of them have worked. Sometimes they help a little, but not enough to matter.”

I flash back to Dr. Wong’s office, when she asked Monica if she was on any medications. Monica said no. Of course she wouldn’t be. She’s pregnant.