Memphis to South Carolina is a long-ass drive, and I had to stop and grab a couple hours shut-eye around the Tennessee-North Carolina border. So it was around eight in the morning before I rolled into York. It was a sleepy little town with a Super Walmart north of town and a couple of crappy strip malls leading into a nice tree-lined main street with big Colonial houses complete with columns and big wraparound porches. I followed Skeeter’s directions and hung a left at the courthouse, then pulled the truck into a grocery store parking lot on the right. The nursing home was across the street, and from the outside it didn’t look like anything was out of the ordinary. It was a long, single-story brick building with a statue of Mary out front. An old man in a wheelchair snoozed on a porch, and
