I folded them carefully and walked out of the hospital.

Rain was hammering the windows when I got to Claire’s law office at two.

Claire sat behind her big oak desk going over the copies I’d just handed her.

A half-empty foam cup of lukewarm coffee sat beside her silver keyboard.

She tapped her glasses against a legal pad.

“He didn’t just lose track of the paperwork, Ellen,” Claire said in her crisp, professional tone.

“He signed your name on the waiver and put his own cell down as the only contact.”