The Therapist Who Reads Minds – Until She Met Him

When an ordinary person speaks, they do it to reveal something.

But a mentally disturbed patient? They speak to hide something.

"You wrote this in your book," the reporter said, leaning forward.

"But people say you're a magician.

That no matter who sits in front of you—patient or not—you can hear what’s inside their mind. How do you do it?"

Aakriti smiled faintly, tilting her head in thought.

"It’s not magic. It’s science.

Listening to someone’s unspoken words isn’t easy.

At best, we can make an educated guess. Nothing more.

Anyone who claims otherwise is a fraud."

"Tonight, you’re meeting the Prime Minister—" the reporter continued, but before she could finish, Aakriti’s assistant stepped in, subtly tapping her watch.

Aakriti immediately stood up. "Apologies, but my patients are waiting. I have to go."

She walked toward the next room,

As she left, her thoughts wandered to something completely unrelated—

what dress should she wear tonight?

She had narrowed it down to two dresses—red or black—but still couldn't decide.

Inside the therapy room, a 19-year-old boy sat calmly, his posture unnaturally still.

His eyes were sharp, almost calculating.

The air around him felt... heavy, like an unseen presence lingered.

Aakriti picked up his file, scanning through the details—yet her mind kept drifting back to her outfit dilemma.

"Red," the boy said suddenly.

Aakriti froze.

She looked up. "What did you just say?"

"You’re debating between red and black, right?"

His voice was eerily composed. "I think red would suit you better."

Her fingers tightened around the file. A slow chill crept up her spine.

"How do you know what I was thinking?"

The boy held her gaze, expression unreadable.

Then, after a brief pause, he gave a small, knowing smile.

"How do I explain it…" he murmured.

"Think of it as magic."