I had scrubbed at the biggest one with dish soap and a stiff broom, and it clung on like a stain on a shirt collar.

Room 2B was on the second floor of the Greenville County courthouse, past a hallway of framed plat maps and a water fountain that ran whether anybody used it or not.

Robert’s lawyer set a pile of folders on the oak table and evened the edges with both hands before he spoke a word.

“Mrs.

Hayward’s granddaughter was outside this county for two hundred eighty-seven days over the past two years,” he said.

“That comes from her own unit’s records.”