Prologue
This is a story about people who are bright, and I'm not one of those people.
At least, I don't think I am. I think that if you were, you'd know. You'd be clever enough to figure it out for yourself, like you figure out everything else. Or maybe it's not conscious; maybe decades of knowing more than you're supposed to has led you to conclude that you are simply different from the rest of them. I don't think, in any of my observations of them, they've really spelled out what they are.
I've met quite a few bright people over the years. Every so often one of them is referred to me, after hopelessly going through the lower-level mental health services. They nearly always leave quite a few psychologists shaken up, having already guessed everything they will be asked and diagnosed with. As a result, they're usually quite cynical about my abilities. That doesn't last for long. I'm too experienced.
Every one of my bright patients has been different, but there are a few which stick out in my mind, and they are the best examples I have. Their stories will help you understand just what I mean by bright.
I have five people's stories to tell, but I only treated four of them. Technically, I only treated three, but Sherlock's brother, Mycroft, was simply too interesting for me not to include both of them. I encountered the very first of my 'bright' people, Jim, when we were both very young, and he was the first stone on my route to meeting Emily, Nicholas, the aforementioned Holmes brothers, and countless others.
-Riley Albright