“Look at this,” I said.

I reached deep into the metal compartment and pulled a folded piece of white paper out from under a set of rusty drill bits.

It was an itemized receipt from a private diagnostic clinic forty miles away in Knoxville, dated July seventeenth.

At the top of the page, the header read Knoxville Regional Neurological Diagnostic Center.

Below the heading, three separate brain scans and blood panel evaluations were listed, totaling two thousand eight hundred dollars.

At the bottom of the page, the balance was stamped paid in full in red ink, with a handwritten note showing the entire amount had been paid in cash.