My first instinct was to reach for him to grab him off the table, so I outstretched my arms, and then looked down toward the floor. I saw the source of the terror was Darlene, our Roomba. I had named her that because when Mark had given her to me for Mother’s Day, she had seemed so pleasant and agreeable. I would press Clean on the app, and she would do it without argument. Darlene was the name of one of the nurse managers at St. Vincent’s, and she had been like a mother hen to all of us. So the Roomba became Darlene; it was the nicest tribute I could think of.

Yet Darlene was anything but pleasant in that moment. She was spinning around in a circle, churning up the throw rug and making a horrifying whirring sound. Then she reversed and sped straight toward the coffee table leg with a sickening thud, as though trying to break it.

“Darlene, what has gotten into you?” I kept my voice light and forced a laugh so Jack would calm down. I leaned down to press the Stop button, but it jerked away from my touch as I got closer.

“Okay. I see you’ve gained some AI, Dar.” I laughed again and looked at Jess, who stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide.

I stepped toward Darlene again, and it again maneuvered out of my grip. This time, it reversed as though it were a pinball and the plunger had been pulled back, and then quickly released toward me, shooting across the carpet at an unnatural speed before crashing hard into my ankle on my bad leg.

“Damn it!” I shouted as I bent down to gingerly touch my leg. It felt like my heartbeat was pouring out of my lower left side, and pain swarmed in front of my eyes as black spots appeared.

“Amy, move!” Jess shouted. I watched as the Roomba pulled back again, ready to ram into me once more. I was able to hop on my good leg out of the way, and Darlene crashed into the corner of the coffee table again, sending a large crack spidering up to where Jack stood.

I reached for him again and pulled him off the table, quickly passing him to Jess as we left the room. Darlene zipped after us, nipping at our heels, while Rocky brought up the rear, barking at it.

“Emily! Stay in the kitchen,” I shouted through the doorway. We ran toward the back door, but Darlene apparently remembered that she had mapped out the house and knew to take a shortcut around the kitchen, where Emily sat on a stool at the island, mouth open.

Darlene appeared in front of the back door, light on top angrily blinking red as she slowly reversed, winding up to slingshot toward us again.