At brunch in the Garden District, my mom raised her mimosa and smiled: “If it weren’t for pity, who do you think would’ve invited you?” I just sipped my coffee like I didn’t hear it, letting the whole table keep performing. That night, in my Houston apartment, I opened my laptop, went through the “shared” things that were all in my name, then sent a short email to my old lawyer. A few days later, my brother called like crazy… And I sat in that chair as if I didn’t have the right to be “sharp” ev