“I’ve had the same cell number for six years.”

She turned the monitor an inch toward me.

“Look at the field before you say anything else.”

It was a scanned paper form.

Block capitals, black ballpoint, pressed hard enough to show through the back of the page.

The letters leaned right.

I had seen that leaning C on school permission slips and on the divorce decree.

“Whose signature?” I asked, though I knew.