My Stepmother Claimed I Was Not Stable In Court Until The Judge Removed His Glasses

My stepmother said it without blinking, looking directly at the judge while she dabbed her eyes with a tissue she had pre-crumpled in her purse for effect.

“She doesn’t even know what day it is, Your Honor. She can barely dress herself.”

I kept my hands folded in my lap. I counted silently to fourteen, which was the number of days she had left before she lost everything she had ever stolen from my family, and I let the words hang in the air of courtroom 4B of the Harris County Probate Court in Houston, Texas, where I was surrounded by people who shared my last name and not one of them was on my side.