The Truth According to Ginny Moon Benjamin Ludwig (books to read in your 30s .txt) 📖

stops. In my brain I remember the first time the police came. The day the first Forever started. The whole thing all at once. The knocking and yelling. The flashing lights.

I shake my head and look at my watch and come back up again. “When are the police coming?” I say.

“I don’t know yet,” says Patrice. “And remember, it’s not definite. It’s a possibility, if things don’t improve.”

“When will you know?”

“Again, I’m not sure,” says Patrice. “Probably sooner than later, though. We should know something by the end of this week. Maybe even this weekend.”

I pick at my fingers. I stand. Then I sit again. Then I stand up and stay standing.

“Ginny, do you want to have a beverage?” says Patrice.

“No,” I say. “I want—”

I stop talking. I shut my mouth tight, tight, tight.

“Brian and Maura wanted me to share these things with you,” says Patrice. “They think you have a right to know. And I agree with them. I know it’s hard to hear that Krystal with a K isn’t doing well, but I hope you see that people are doing something about it. The social workers are involved, and if it comes to it, they’ll do their best to place her in a good home.”

“Will I be able to go see it?”

“I’m not sure, but when you’re at Saint Genevieve’s, you’re going to be pretty far away. The social workers try to place children locally, when they can. If you’re in Connecticut, visits will be tough. Krystal with a K will be in foster care until a judge decides whether or not reunification is possible, and then—” She stops. “So it’s a big mess, and I know you’re going to want to be around to get updates. Now, if you tell me that you want to stay at the Blue House, I can help you work toward that. But we need to tell these things to Maura and Brian. So let’s write that letter, okay? We need to make it clear how much you’ll miss everyone. How much you care. And above all, we can’t have any more incidents. No more running off into the woods or running away. You have to stay put.”

I don’t know what stay put means. I don’t understand it at all but Patrice already has paper out and a pen. She tells me to say what I want to say while she writes it. So I start talking in my brain. I talk fast in my brain and then talk very, very slowly. So that I’m not telling any lies. It is extremely hard and tedious to do.

But I have to do it.

Patrice writes and writes and then she reads it back to me.

Dear Maura and Brian and Baby Wendy,

I don’t want to go to Saint Genevieve’s Home for Girls Who Aren’t Safe. I’m guessing I want to stay put instead even though I don’t really understand what that means. But I promise while I’m here I won’t tell any more lies with my mouth. I won’t have any more incidents. I won’t get into fights at school. I will not steal things. Every time you see me I will be a very good girl.

Love,

Ginny Moon

EXACTLY 9:32 IN THE MORNING,

THURSDAY, JANUARY 20TH

I have a lot of things to think about and it is making my head hurt. It hurts so much that I keep putting my hands on the sides of my head and squeezing. When Brian saw me that way this morning at the dining room table he asked me what was wrong but I just made an angry face. Because I’m supposed to get ready for the little rendezvous on Tuesday, January 25th, but the police might come to take my Baby Doll away from Gloria before that. Which means I have to call Gloria to tell her right away. I have to call her now.

But I don’t have a phone anymore.

“So your mom can’t go because of your baby sister?” says Kayla Zadambidge. We are in Room Five working on a puzzle together. The pieces don’t feel like pieces that go to anything. They feel like pieces of a broken sidewalk or broken glass.

“Ginny?”

It is Brenda Richardson. I think hard. She has a phone but her mom won’t let her take it to school every day. Only on days when she has tumbling lessons after school. She has tumbling lessons today.

“Will it be just your dad there on Sunday, or your mom and little sister, too?”

I nod my head yes.

“What about your other dad? You know, that Rick dude,” says Larry. “Is he going?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Larry says. His dad won’t let him have a phone until he gets to high school.

“He’s driving truck down to Georgia,” I say. “But he sends me emails.”

“Are you going to, oh, I don’t know, meet him anywhere sometime soon?” says Larry. Because Larry knows about my secret plan. He’s going to help me on Tuesday, January 25th. Because he said he would do anything for me.

“So your mom isn’t going to be there at all because she has to watch the baby?” says Alison Hill.

Alison Hill has a phone. It is exactly the same kind as Brenda Richardson’s. She keeps it in her locker. I don’t know the combination but her locker is right next to mine. I don’t want to take Alison Hill’s phone or Brenda Richardson’s because they are my friends but Gloria said to get a few cell phones. Plus if I don’t call Gloria to tell her that the social workers are going to take my Baby Doll away then it might happen. The police will come to get it. Maybe today or tomorrow or this weekend. They might already have it.

I try to remember what Alison Hill asked. I shake my head no.

“That must make you sad,” she says.

I nod.

“When she grows up, will she be able to go?”

“Mostly,” I say.

“I love your little sister,” says Kayla Zadambidge. “Remember how she was holding my finger and