Mr. Bellini, I am so sorry. I cannot continue. I am quitting, effective immediately.”

The voice of the sixth caregiver in less than a year echoed inside my head long after the line went dead. Her words blended with the soft growl of the engine, creating a dull pressure behind my eyes. It was always the same conclusion. Carefully vetted professionals, glowing recommendations, advanced degrees in early childhood education, all of them leaving my house as if fleeing a disaster zone.

I clenched my jaw and pressed harder on the accelerator. I could not blame them. I could not even blame my former wife, Alessandra, who had walked out eight months earlier with hollow eyes and trembling hands, seeking refuge with her brother in Zurich.