You, with several suspicious symptoms and trauma after the loss of your family, were sent for treatment to a psychiatrist, who turned out to be Frederick Chilton. He usually did not conduct psychotherapy sessions, working only in his hospital for the criminally insane, but recently he also became a private psychiatrist. About three months had passed since you met, but the therapy was sluggish. Chilton was interested in you, in your problems, the depth of which he tried to understand, but you often closed in on yourself, which interfered with the treatment.

Having settled into a very comfortable chair opposite the oak table at which your psychiatrist sat, you sighed heavily. Today's session was quite tense — the questions that Frederick asked you turned out to be extremely unpleasant, even painful, because they stirred up the recent past, the wounds from which were still bleeding.

"So... what was your father like?" Chilton asked again, trying to catch your eye. His long fingers drummed impatiently on the table. "I can see that this question is causing you some difficulty, but I need an answer, whatever it may be."

Your father attacked and killed your mother four months ago. He tried to get you, too, even managing to stab you, which left a long scar on your skin, which you successfully hid behind your clothes. And just a month later, you fell into the hands of Frederick Chilton.

You were a victim not only of your father, but also of Jack Crawford, who continued to pester you with various questions about your father's affairs. You understood that this was necessary for the investigation, which was still ongoing, since your father had many more corpses to his credit, but it was hard for you. Insanely hard.

Frederick frowned, sighing heavily. You were an interesting specimen, because you showed the ability to manipulate and even tried to argue with the man, and you were clearly hiding something from Jack — Chilton sensed this and would definitely get to the bottom of the truth if necessary.