The Truth According to Ginny Moon

at him sideways over the top of my glasses. I push my hair out of my face but it falls back. I wish I had a scrunchie. “Gloria LeBlanc,” I say. It’s been a long time since I said the name LeBlanc with my mouth. Because that is what my name used to be. It’s like I left the original me behind when I came to live with my new Forever Parents. With Brian and Maura Moon. My name is Ginny Moon now but there are still parts of the original me left.
So it is like I turned into the original Ginny Moon.
“Spell it,” says Larry so I do. Larry types and then he steps away and points to the chair. I sit.
And I see her.
Gloria, who hit me and gave me hugs afterward and cried. Gloria, who left me alone all the time in the apartment but gave me fancy drinks when we sat on the couch watching monster movies, who said she was a smart cookie no matter what anyone says because she passed the GED with flying colors which in my brain made me see a parade of girls in pretty skirts twirling batons with streamers and cheering.
Gloria, the second-scariest person I know.
Gloria, my Birth Mom.
Gloria’s shirt and hair are mostly different but at least she has pictures of Maine coons all over the page. And Gloria still has glasses and is really, really skinny like me. I haven’t seen her or talked with her since I was nine years old. That was when the police came and she said, “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Ginny!” I’m thirteen years old right now but I’ll turn fourteen on September 18th which after today is in nine days because:
Plus nine is how old I was when the first Forever started. The two months cancel each other out, mostly.
“Babe?” says Larry.
He is talking to me. I come up out of my brain. “What?” I say.
“Do you want to see if she’s around to chat?”
I am excited. Because chat means talk.
Larry points to part of the screen. “Here,” he says. “Just click here.”
So I click and then I see a place where I can type.
“Type what you want to say to her,” says Larry. “Just say hi and ask her a question.”
I don’t want to say hi. Instead I type the question that I keep asking everyone and that no one ever, ever, ever understands:
Did you find my Baby Doll?
And then I wait.
“You have to click Send,” says Larry.
But I don’t really hear him because the pictures of the police and Gloria and the kitchen are moving so fast that I can’t see anything else. I am going deep in my brain again. I see Gloria with her face squished against the wall and the police holding her there. I see the broken-down door and the light coming in from outside and two cats running out. I don’t remember which ones.
“Here,” I hear Larry say. “I’ll click it for you.”
In front of me I see the arrow move on the screen. It touches the send button and then I start counting because when something might happen I need to see how high I can count before it gets here especially when it’s the answer I’ve been waiting four whole years for.
Six seconds pass. Then some words appear on the screen under the ones I typed. The words say,
Is this you Ginny?
But that isn’t an answer to my question. I want to pick at my fingers but I can’t do that because there’s a question on the screen and it’s my turn to type. So I type, Yes this is Ginny. You did not answer my question. And click Send like Larry showed me.
Then one more word blinks onto the computer screen. It is in capital letters and it is screaming. The word is:
YES!
And then,
YES WE FOUND YOUR BABY DOLL WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!
I want to write Are you taking good care of it? but my hands are shaking so hard now that I can’t make them do what I want. Plus Gloria asked a question. I open and close my hands three times and put them between my knees and take them out again and type, In Room Five with Larry.
And then she writes,
WHO IS LARRY WHAT IS YOUR ADDRESS?
Now I am picking at my fingers. I have to because I don’t want to talk about Larry or what my address is. I only want to talk about my Baby Doll. Because even though Gloria said YES! and WE FOUND YOUR BABY DOLL I don’t know if she’s telling the truth or if my Baby Doll is okay. Because Gloria is unreliable and inconsistent and she’s the one who lies. So I open and close my hands two more times and remember to breathe and then I type, Larry is my friend. 57 Cedar Lane Greensbor—
I stop typing because I hear Ms. Dana in the hallway. I hear her talking to someone else. Another teacher, I’m guessing.
Which means in a minute I’m going to get caught.
“Babe?” says Larry. He is standing behind me. His voice is anxious.
So I type, I have to go, but as soon as I click Send I want to go back and also say Can you please, please, please bring my Baby Doll to me? but my turn is gone and Ms. Dana will come in any second now.
I stand up fast to move away from the computer. Then someone touches my shoulder so I recoil.
I almost fall. When I see that it is just Larry and no one is hurting me I lower my arm and look at the screen again where I see another word. It says,
MANICOON.COM
Then,
THAT’S WHERE TO FIND ME JUST IN CASE.
Then,
FUCK IT I’M ON MY WAY I’LL BE THERE TOMORROW.
I look away. I don’t see Gloria or the apartment or my Baby Doll. I see only Larry with one of his arms out of a brace and his