The first page bore the blue stamp of the Kings County Supreme Court, listing my engineering firm as the primary defendant in a civil suit.
A homeowner named Arthur Vance was suing me for eighty-five thousand dollars, alleging that my company had taken his deposit for a foundation stabilization project and abandoned the work.
I had never heard of Arthur Vance, but my name was written on the contract in bold black ink, directly above the forged signature I had stared at the night before.
The document claimed that I had personally visited his home in Flatbush on the second of November, a date when I was still working twelve-hour shifts at the refinery in Munich.
The phone in my pocket began to vibrate against my leg, the screen displaying an unknown number from a local area code.
I did not answer it, choosing instead to pack my briefcase with the legal papers and head straight to the hospital.
