“It’s written in the attending physician’s handwriting right above my forged signature,” I said.

“That one sheet completely changes our emergency court filing,” Vance said.

“Bring those original documents to the hospital lobby at seven forty-five tomorrow morning, Mrs.

Mitchell.”

“I’ll have them in my hand,” I said.

I hung up and slid off the wooden chair onto the floor beside the desk.

I spread the collection notices and bank statements around my knees in a wide half circle and stared at the numbers in the quiet room.

For weeks I had believed his dismissive attitude came from work stress, corporate deadlines, or plain stinginess with money.