Automatic Nanny -

“He’s so advanced,” the other mothers at the park said, their eyes flicking from Leo (who sat placidly in his stroller, watching a pigeon with detached curiosity) to the small, white sensor pod clipped to his collar.

I stopped smelling his head in the middle of the night. I stopped feeling the panic-warmth of his body against my chest. But I was sleeping. I was working out again. I was me . automatic nanny

The first time the crib woke me, I thought it was a gift. “He’s so advanced,” the other mothers at the

And for the first time in two years, he reached for me. Not because a predictive algorithm told him to. Not because a robotic arm guided his hand. But because he was lost, and I was the only warm thing left in the dark. But I was sleeping

At eighteen months, the first yellow flag appeared. Leo was in the “growth station” (now configured as a small desk with a holographic interface) while I made coffee. The Automa’s voice, usually a gentle murmur, sharpened.