Three Days Before the Casket Was Delivered, My Son Asked Me to Sign a Document

“I spent the past hour cross-checking public health records with the county registrar,” Arthur said, his leather portfolio tucked under his left arm.

We walked down the linoleum hallway to a pair of empty wooden chairs near the property records counter.

“Did you check the urgent care clinics across the county line?” I asked.

Arthur sat down, laid the portfolio across his knees, and undid the brass clasps.

Before he spoke, he took off his wire-rimmed glasses and wiped the lenses clean with the wide end of his blue silk tie.

“There’s no record of Chloe Miller visiting any urgent care center, emergency room, or pediatric clinic in this county or the two counties next to it in the past month,” Arthur said, settling his glasses back on his nose.