Sapphire of Espionage

chapter 2: Telepath

Ian woke up to the soft morning light, a slight headache tugging at his temples. He shuffled to the bathroom, splashing water on his face and brushing his teeth. But then, as he glanced in the mirror, he froze...there it was, a single white hair, stark against his dark locks.

"White hair? I'm only 7!" he muttered, plucking it out. His reflection seemed to hold secrets, as if the mirror knew more than it revealed.

Dressed and ready, Ian descended the stairs. His mom, Marie, greeted him with a warm smile. "Good morning, dear."

Marie had prepared breakfast, hoping to lift his spirits. "It's my favorite," Ian declared, digging into the scrambled eggs. But then something strange happened...his mom's thoughts echoed in his mind. She wondered if he'd like the meal, and he answered before she spoke.

"It's like you know what I was thinking," Marie said, her eyes wide.

Ian blinked. "You just said it," he replied, puzzled.

"But I didn't say it out loud," Marie insisted, her brow furrowing.

Ian's heart raced. "You mean... I really did read your mind?"

Marie decided to test it further. "Let's try this once more," she proposed. "I'll think of something, and you answer. If you're right, that'd mean... you have telepathy."

Ian hesitated. "I'm sure it's all just a coincidence," he said, but agreed to the experiment.

Marie stared at him, her mind racing. "My son can read minds?" she wondered, looking at Ian as if seeing him for the first time.

Ian grinned. "Wait," he said, "you asked if I can read minds, right?"

Marie nodded.

"Mom," Ian whispered, "I think I'm a telepath."

Marie's emotions swirled...fear, wonder, uncertainty. "I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing," she admitted.

Ian shrugged. "Me neither."

Marie debated her next move. "Should I take him to the hospital?" she pondered.

Ian interrupted her thoughts. "Yes, Mom," he said firmly. "I think I do need to see the doctor."

--
In the sterile confines of the doctor's office, Ian perched on the examination table, his gaze fixed on the man in the white coat. The doctor, Dr. Harris, peered at Ian over his glasses, skepticism etched into his features.

"So," Dr. Harris began, his voice measured, "you say you think you can read minds?"

Ian nodded. "Yes, sir."

*"He should be seeing a psychiatrist, he's nuts," thought Dr. Harris, and Ian rolled his eyes after reading the doctor's thoughts.

Dr. Harris cleared his throat. "Well, first of all," he said, leaning back, "I'm a medical doctor, and secondly, there's no such thing as telepathy."

*"I just farted, and they didn't even notice," thought the doctor as Ian read his mind.

Ian's resolve didn't waver. "There is," he insisted. "And I can prove it."

Marie, sitting nearby, chimed in. "He's right."

"These psychos really need to leave. I need to take a dump," Ian read the doctor's mind.

Dr. Harris raised an eyebrow. "Is it only your mother's mind you can read?"

Ian shook his head. "No," he replied. "I read other people's minds too. And it was too much to handle."

"I shouldn't have eaten that grilled cheese I left three weeks ago as breakfast. Now I need a dump,"* thought the doctor as Ian read his mind.

Ian leaned forward. "I can prove that I'm a telepath."