About the book: 2024 / - This is some kind of mistake! – hugging my son to myself, I roar in despair. – We still need to undergo examinations. Get tested... - Everything is accurate. The child has tuberculosis. He needs to be isolated. “I’ve already called the guardianship authorities,” the doctor slams me with his gaze. – You are not able to look after your son. Your actions cause him irreparable harm. - No! Not true! – I shout out loud. “My son is healthy!” “No one is asking you here,” a fat, gloomy woman comes into the office. “Come on, Styopa,” my son pulls from my embrace. “Mom, I want to write!” – the baby is breaking free, crying. “We’re here now,” I grab the child’s hand and jump out the door. “My ex set guardianship on us,” I call my neighbor from a cramped booth. - They’re taking Styopa away! Save us! - Don’t whine, Vasilisa. I'll be there now.