Fearless FBI book 5:


Sam Moon. The name makes my skin crawl. Even now, as I think of his name, I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck abruptly stick up. My breath is getting jagged, and the palms of my hands are getting clammy. Its not that I hate him…well, actually, it is. I hate Sam Moon. I hate his with every ounce of my being. Always have, always will. What's really bugging me is that I can't really pinpoint exactly why I hate him. He's not one of those perfect guys that everybody envies, or loves to hate. I mean, come on, the guy has his faults. The way he always runs his hand through his hair, how his hand shakes whenever he's nervous, how his laugh is extremely obnoxious and brings the whole room's attention to him. So it's not some guy rivalry thing.

It's not like he's better than me. But then…what is it? WHY do I hate him? I always knew he had a thing for Heather. I'll admit it, I was jealous way back when. But it's been what? 6 years? Shouldn't I be over hating my ex-girlfriends fiancé by now? I am. I'm over it. There's no reason for me to hate him. Well…except for….that thing. The other thing. But no. No. Not thinking about her…that…right now. I'm over being mad at Sam. So why is it that when Heather called me eight months ago and announced their wedding, I ran to the to the nearest patch of floor and threw up? I never throw up. When I get the flu, I sneeze, my nose runs insanely, I feel like a horse trampled over me, but I never vomit.

Almost got fired. By vomiting I mean. What sane doctor vomits in a hospital waiting room? Well…I wouldn't be so cocky as to call myself a doctor. I just came out of Western med school and spend full hours at an internship at Vincent Graw hospital. My life is heading upwards. I'm on the right path. The future is bright. So why do I feel like fainting at the thought of being home again?

Chapter One: Broken Glass

"New life, new identity, new dignity"

Ed stood, sweating under the large flood lights overhead. Diamonds of light covered the ground, spinning as the enormous crystal chandler swayed above with the air from the fan. He tugged uncomfortably at his heavy black suit collar.

"What are you doing? The ceremonies starting!" His mother dragged him to the stiff maroon seat right next to the aisle. Some cheesy band started playing a slow, supposedly romantic song as the little flower girls walked up the aisle. Then came Heather. Ed's mouth hung open. Almost surreal, her angel-like face was lightly covered in make up. He hair curled down below her shoulders, touching the hem of her magnificent white dress. As she passed Ed, she smiled, giving him a nod. He forced a grin back. She went up to the front to meet up Sam. He grinned widely.

Ed rubbed his sweating palms together, barely registering what the priest was saying.

"And now…you may kiss the bride." Ed looked up; his stomach felt like acid was slowly making its way through to his heart. And suddenly, there was a whooshing sound. Looking up, Ed saw the enormous Chandelier falling. But Heather and Sam didn't notice. The stared at each other, a loving glow to their eyes. Ed jumped up. Half of the Chandelier fell faster than the other. Sam crumpled underneath it, a mere corpse amidst a sea of glass. Heather turned to look at Ed. But it wasn't Heather. It was her. How long had it been since he'd seen that face? Ed's heart swelled with relief. But then glass flew everywhere, shattering his heart once again.

The theme from pirates of the Caribbean played loudly in the distance. Ed's eyes flew open. His room. His old room. He was in New York again, staying with his parents before heading to Sam and Heathers wedding. Oh man. The wedding. He turned to the window. It was pitch black outside. What time was it anyway? Morning or night? Slowly, his mind began working at a semi normal pace. Pirates of the Caribbean? Oh right…the ring tone. The phone. Ed threw the covers off his bed and stumbled to the door. His knees felt as if they would give away any second. As he got older, his legs had gotten worse and worse. He pushed yet another disturbing thought from his mind as he turned the corner and headed to the kitchen. Ed had never actually slept in his old house since he had headed of to Western. He had wanted to start completely fresh. New life, new identity, new dignity. Coming home only brought up disturbing memories from the past. He felt like he didn't belong in this house anymore. The new Ed didn't belong in New York. He belonged in the real world.

Who would be CALLING at this hour anyway? But wait…he didn't even know what hour it was. Automatically, he looked up at the left corner of the hallway for the clock. It wasn't there. Ed kept on finding little things about home that his parents had changed. It bugged him. Even though it shouldn't… this wasn't his home anymore. No more New York drama.Ed made the last few weak steps towards the phone and picked it up.


A chill ran through his spine. That voice. There was something so familiar about that voice. Something he'd trained his mind to push away for years. Even now, in one small corner of his head, he knew who the voice belonged to. But the other portion resisted the thought. If he let himself think, let himself hope…then he would be crushed in a few seconds. Like when he'd followed that blonde down 12 blocks just to catch a glimpse of her face. Of course, he'd been disappointed. But now…this? No. His mind was just imagining it. This had happened before too. Every time he passed somebody eating a large crispy cream on campus…he thought he could hear her swearing. But it was just in his head. Wow, he really was going insane.

"…Ed?" Silence. The phone felt like it was melting into his hand. This wasn't real. He was still dreaming. It was probably Megan or Heather or one of the FOHS on the phone. FOHS…she had made that up. He was surprised he still remembered that. Was he breathing? Breath Ed. Breath.

"Ed…are you there? It's Gaia."

Ed leaned over the phone, put his head over the sink and threw up.


Nobody appreciates the little things. The way each piece of dirt sparkles in the sun. How the shingles on the roof of Joes Papaya are a glorious home to the mother pigeons and their kids. How each druggie that runs around with an old star bucks cup in a traffic jam's face lights up when somebody gives them a penny. I never used to see these things. Looking back on my life before, I can't help but thinking it was all meaningless. What a waste. My main goal of the day was to pick the best outfit, to get the most attention. I'm not saying I wasn't good at what I did. I mean, I was defiantly the queen of Village high. All of the 900 kids in that school knew my name. I went out with a college guy. To be honest, since I'm already being so blunt to myself already, part of the reason I went out with him was because he made me feel superior to all the other kids at our school. More sophisticated. That's how low I was.

At first, when I lost my sight, I was devastated. I mean, I was literally in pieces. All I could think of was what Megan and all my friends would say. Who would be the new queen? Then, eventually, as I got a grasp on the whole blind thing, it was like a weight being lift of my chest. Do you know what a relief it is to NOT care what you'll wear in the morning? NOT care how your hair looks? Not care that your jeans are baggy and your smile is too wide? Not care that you ate a donut the other night and didn't go for a run? Not care what the guy you're talking to thinks of you, because you can't see him…and he can't see you. I was actually kind of happy. I was beginning to think "hey…being blind for the rest of my life can't be that bad." Except, then, when I began to see again, I couldn't believe I'd lasted so long without the luxury. Why didn't I ever look at the sky before? The way the clouds are always changing shape, moving with the breeze. Oh god. I sound like somebody from a Thursday afternoon soap opera.

So, one month after my sight fully came back, I decided I was going to do something with my life. I'd always wanted to be a magazine journalist. You know? One of those people who gets pictures of famous celebrities doing secretive things or wearing horrible outfits and making fun of them. That was my dream job. But after everything I had been through, I re-assessed my goals. I still wanted to be a journalist…I just wanted to right about real things. Like this story I have right now, about a woman suing this face cream company for giving her skin cancer. The world needs somebody to tell them about these things. This is my third year at NYU and I'm successfully getting my life back in toll. Did I mention Sam goes to NYU? Sam. The name makes me smile every time. After prom, we hung out everyday. Then I came to NYU. Now we're getting married. It's ironic really. Going blind made me see everything so clearly.