I have surrendered to insanity.
Long has it been knocking at my door, and now I have welcomed it home.
We’ve been told the mob is the stuff of myth and legend.
But I have a nanny’s inside story of the sinister truth:
the cyber mafia is real.
And it’s the moms who rule.
- Ayela Scarsdale, “Mafia Moms,” (2859)
You may think this a comedic short story, and I wish that were the truth, but there is nothing funny about it. The cyber mafia is real, and it is knocking on your door.
And what you don’t know can hurt you all the more. For hiding in plain sight is something no one wants to see: everything about our world is a deception for you and me.
Do I speak in riddles? Do you hear the rhymes? Listen well and know the spell, for the story will unwind.
My name is Ayela, and I am here to tell ya: nothing is what it seems, so buckle up, gear up, and take a journey with me.
?
“Joey! Mal! Lunch!” I called across the Cheyenne playground.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“Peanut butter and grape jelly!” Joey chanted when I handed him a sandwich.
“Strawberry!” his twin sister cheered.
Yes, they were a handful, but over all, the three-year-olds I nannied were easily managed. It was their family life that was the struggle. For their father was never home, and their mother always was.
And yet, I never saw either of their parents.
Unless it was something very, very bad.
Like the day Mal had a reaction to a bee sting and broke out in hives. I called the nurse at their medica’s office and got instructions for giving children’s medications. Those made Mal super groggy, so she’d slept the whole day.
Until it was almost time for my shift to be up, and then she woke up vomiting. I spoke to another nurse and got instructions on what to do, and Mal seemed okay. However, I didn’t want this two-nurse-phone-call day to go unobserved by the twin’s parents, especially since their father was a prominent cybernetics surgeon.
So I went up to the second floor office in their house, which I had only been in a handful of times. Knocking on the door lightly, I held my breath.
“Enter.”
It was a single word, as it always was.
I squared my shoulders, nodded to myself, and opened the door. Stepping across the threshold was like entering another world. A wall of screens met me, and seated before them in a swivel chair was a severe, cold, blonde woman in a black business suit, hair pulled into a tight bun.
Her fingers on a keyboard, she raised one eyebrow, but did not take her eyes off the screens in front of her.
“Janelynn,” I started. “Today Mal was stung by a sweat bee and broke out in hives. That was easily solved by medications the nurse advised me to administer. However, after sleeping all day, Mal woke up vomiting.”
I tried to not wince. Puking children was the nemesis of this mother, and anytime the kids got sick, she was insufferable.
Two cold eyes focused on me, and I tried to still my racing heart.
“Malina hasn’t vomited in forty-five minutes, and the nurse said this is a good sign. Her brother has been completely fine.”
I should have started with that, I realized with regret. Because at the mention of one vomit-free child, Janelynn’s expression relaxed the tiniest bit.
“I’ll report all of this to the night nanny, and pass on the nurse’s instructions to him. Is there anything more you would like me to do regarding this issue?” I asked with as much confidence as I could muster.
Her head moved slightly, and her eyes returned to the screens.
I was dismissed.
I exited the office on silent feet, closed the door softly, then sighed in relief.
I’d survived.
I wasn’t fired, and I could come back to work another day.
That’s how things went for many months. Until the day Janelynn fired me for planning a birthday party for the twins without consulting her first. At the time, I’d been devastated to lose my employment.
But weeks later, I found out the shocking truth, and suddenly, everything about that miserable job made so much sense.
