“We’ve already divided the estate,” my mother said, voice sharp enough to cut silver. “Your sister gets the rental apartments. You’ll get… something.” Everyone nodded like it was a done deal—as if those twelve buildings were already hers. I just opened my folder, slid a single county record across the table, and told her, very quietly, “You can’t divide what isn’t yours.” She read the 2018 deed with my name on it… and started screaming.
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