She reached into the bag and pulled out a sleek black tablet. She propped it up on the coffee table, opened an app, and angled the camera toward the nursery.
I leaned in. Claire was livestreaming.
At first, I thought I was seeing it wrong. But then the tablet screen lit up with hearts, emojis, and scrolling comments. Claire smiled at the screen and whispered greetings. She aimed the tablet perfectly into the nursery, like she’d done it before. She even typed in a title across the bottom of the stream:
“Nanny Nights: Part 12.”
Rose let out a sharp breath behind me.
We watched as Claire cooed at the camera like some influencer, chatting about Zoey’s sleep habits, feeding schedule, and nap times. Then came the caption: “Night routine with Baby Z 💕👶 #NannyLife.”
I felt sick. Our daughter’s bedtime was content. We had trusted this woman to care for our newborn, and she was broadcasting her every move to strangers. Who was watching? How many? And why?
Then came the worst part.
Zoey stirred in her crib. A small cough. Then sharper. Her legs kicked under the blanket, and she made an awful wheezing noise. She was choking.
For illustrative purposes only
Beau reacted instantly. He nudged the crib with his nose, then barked. But Claire didn’t notice—she was scrolling on her tablet, AirPods in, completely zoned out. Beau barked louder, climbed onto the rug, nudged the blanket again. Then he snapped his jaws in the air right beside Claire’s leg—not to bite, but just enough to startle her.
