Vance bent down to pick them up, straightening the papers before placing them back on the table. One of the pages caught my eye because of a thick notary stamp in the lower right corner.
“What is that?” I asked, pointing to the page on top.
Vance glanced at it, his face showing no emotion. “Looks like a photocopy of a medical proxy. It’s in your file, so your doctors know who to consult if you can’t speak for yourself.”
“I didn’t sign a medical proxy,” I said.
“Well, it has your name on it,” Vance said, tapping the bottom of the paper with his thumb. “And it’s notarized. It says here you appointed your mother, Martha, as your representative.”
My throat felt dry. I reached for the cup of tap water Brenda had left, but my hand was too stiff to lift it.
“Can I see that?” I asked.
Vance pulled the page from the white folder and handed it to me, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched my face. “You need to look closely at what you signed before the ambulance arrived.
