The children did not come home.
The morning before the robots walked, Johnny Malone, the Mayor's son, bounced out of bed with a burst of energy. Skinning out of his pajamas and into a pair of trousers, he hurried, barefooted, into his mother's bedroom. She was sleeping soundly, and he touched one shoulder hesitantly.
"Mother!"
The sleeping figure stirred. His mother's face, still faintly shiny with hormone cream, turned toward him. She opened her eyes. Her voice was irritated.
"What is it, Johnny?"
"Today's the day, mommy. Remember?"
"The day?" Eyebrows raised.
"The new school opens. Now we'll have roboteachers like everyone else. Will you fix my breakfast, mother?"
"Amelia will fix you something."