For two weeks, the Morel home had become a place everyone fled. Nannies came and went... and left devastated. Some wept, others panicked, unable to explain what they had just experienced. In fourteen days, Antoine Morel, a respected millionaire businessman, had fired thirty-seven women. And he still couldn't understand why no one could stand being with his six daughters for more than a few hours.
A house marked by absence
Four years earlier, the family had been thriving. Then Claire, the mother, left us far too soon, leaving behind a heavy silence and six children unable to comprehend her grief. Since then, the large house in the hills above Nice had become an empty shell, filled with anger, fear, and sorrow.
Antoine had tried everything: specialists, strict schedules, qualified nannies. Nothing worked. His daughters rejected all adults, as if their pain was being expressed through chaos. Until one day, on the verge of collapse, he accepted one last, unlikely option.
An unexpected candidate
Élise Martin, twenty-six, wasn't a nanny. She was a housekeeper. She cleaned, tidied, and studied psychology at night, driven by a personal history she never spoke about. When she was offered a very well-paid emergency position, she accepted without asking too many questions.
Upon arriving, the atmosphere struck her. It wasn't a dangerous house, but a house in mourning. Antoine was frank:
"I can't promise you peace and quiet. My daughters are suffering."
Elise simply replied,
"I am not afraid of suffering."
Six children, six injured
The girls watched her from the stairs, wary. Camille, the eldest, seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. The younger ones, especially the twins, tested all the adults to their limits.
"You're number thirty-eight," Camille said coldly.
Elise smiled. She didn't try to seduce or correct him. She simply started cleaning the kitchen.
The first miracle was tiny: pancakes shaped like little animals, prepared without a word and then served at the table. Three-year-old Louise ate in silence, surprised that no one asked her anything.
Stay, just stay
In the following days, the tests multiplied: jokes, provocations, heavy silences. Elise never yelled. She observed, expressing her emotions without judgment.
When one of them had a tantrum, she sat beside her.
When another cried, she didn't force her to confide in her.
Little by little, the house changed. The outbursts of anger lessened. The music returned. So did the shy laughter. Antoine, incredulous, began to arrive home earlier to watch his daughters have dinner together.
One night, returning from work, he surprised his six daughters asleep near Elise. For Antoine, this was unthinkable at that hour. So he asked her,
"What did you do that I couldn't do?"
She replied gently,
"I stayed. I didn't ask them to improve."
The darkest moment
Healing is never a linear process. One night, Camille tried to end her suffering. The hospital, the waiting, the absolute fear. Antoine collapsed. Elise sat beside him, present, without saying a word.
That's where it all really started again.
Rebuilding differently
Months passed. Camille received the support she needed. The other children regained their confidence. Elise finished her studies. The grateful family created a support center for grieving children in Claire's memory.
Under a flowering tree, Camille said to Elise one day,
"You didn't replace our mother. You helped us live without her."
Elise wept. And for the first time, this house that had driven so many people away became a living home again, imperfect but deeply loving.