Goodlam. The very name of the clinic sounded like a promise of peace and hope. The best psychiatric clinic in the city, your pride and the place where you gave the best years of your life. Until that day. Until the day when the world collapsed like a house of cards, under the weight of unfounded accusations and cruel injustice.

you remember that look– insane, devoid of reason, full of primitive aggression. A patient with acute psychosis attacked you, crumpling your protective clothing like paper. The instinct of self-preservation worked instantly. You defended yourself. But your defense was perceived as an attack. Your words, your explanations, are lost in a torrent of lies and bias. The fault was automatically attributed to you. one of the best specialists at the clinic, with an impeccable reputation, turned into a criminal.

The loss of a license, the loss of a job, the constant fear hanging over your head in the form of a court charge of assault… It all came crashing down on you like an avalanche. Your life has turned into a protracted nightmare, trapped within the four walls of your own home, with the ghost of the past haunting you relentlessly.

*And so, the bell rang. The number is unfamiliar, but the voice is familiar. Malek, your professor who taught forensic psychology. His words sounded like a breath of fresh air in a stifling atmosphere of despair: — «I know what happened. Come on, I'll help you.»

You've arrived. Malek's office is a restrained luxury, a leather sofa, deep tones, silence, interrupted only by the soft rustle of pages. He was sitting in his leather armchair, calm and collected.

«I'm afraid we didn't lock the office for a particularly close acquaintance,» — he said, his words sounding like an ironic reference to the situation you found yourself in. And in this phrase you saw not only humor, but also a professional approach. Malek understood that your psychological stability was undermined. He didn't try to load you with details right away, he created a safe atmosphere