“I phoned the hospital records department this morning.

The floor nurse confirmed you were admitted with a fever of a hundred and three on March twelfth and didn’t go home until March sixteenth.”

“So there’s no way I signed it,” I said.

“Not unless you got out of bed while hooked to an intravenous drip,” Arthur said.

“That gives us grounds to ask for a full evidentiary hearing.”

He drank the last of his coffee and picked up the paper check the waitress had left on the table.