After a death · the probate question, answered from the code
Every state sets a line. Under it, a family can settle an estate with a sworn paper instead of a court case. This checker counts the estate the way the statute counts it — after the assets that pass automatically are removed — and names the door that fits: the affidavit, the summary track, or full probate, with the reason.
The checker named your door. The kit walks you through it: the bank-refusal playbook first, then your state's affidavit walkthrough, the inventory worksheets that count the estate correctly, the creditor order, the timeline calendar, and the letters.
One-time payment. Yours to keep, printable, no account, no subscription.
Answer with rough numbers; the verdict shows its math, and you can refine the count and run it again. If you are doing this at a hard moment, take it one field at a time.
Before any limit is applied, the law removes a whole class of property: accounts with a named beneficiary, joint accounts, transfer-on-death accounts and deeds, trust assets. They pass by their own paperwork and never enter the probate count. A large share of families who believe they are over their state's limit are under it once the estate is counted correctly — the checker does that subtraction first, before it compares anything.
A sworn paper, presented to the bank or filed with the court, that moves the property without a case. Limits run from $15,000 in Rhode Island to $275,000 in Oregon. Signing it makes you personally responsible for paying the estate's debts in the legal order — the checker prints that duty inside the verdict, not in fine print.
Too big for the affidavit, too simple for the full process. Florida's summary administration, Pennsylvania's small-estate petition, Ohio's release from administration, California's petition for a primary home, Texas's muniment of title. A thin court file and a judge's order at the end — under a different name in every state, which is why families miss it.
For estates over every limit, estates that cannot pay their debts, and houses no shortcut can move. When this is the verdict, the checker names the reason and what the process typically costs — so you hear the number from us before a law office quotes it.
Fifty-one rulebooks, fifty-one different lines — and the number that applies is the one in force on the date of death, which is why the checker asks for it. Pick the state for its full page: the tracks, the limits, the form by its real name, and the traps that catch families there.
The most-used free charts in this field are stale on the biggest states, today: one major form site still shows California at $150,000 (the law is $208,850), Illinois at $100,000 (it has been $150,000 since August 2025), Arizona at $75,000 (it rose to $200,000 in September 2025). The one company selling this verdict for $59 shows Delaware at $50,000; the code says $30,000 — and Louisiana's limit itself moved in 2026, from $125,000 to $200,000, faster than any static chart has followed. Our dataset is read from the probate codes and the courts' own pages, every limit is versioned by date of death, and every page carries its checking date. The maintenance is the product.
Before any limit is applied, the law removes a whole class of property from the count — and most families never hear about it until after they have paid a lawyer.
It is the most common failure of an otherwise free procedure: a valid, notarized affidavit refused at a branch counter. Here is why it happens and what actually works.
Every estate in America goes through one of three doors. The difference between them is months of time and thousands of dollars — and which door fits is mostly arithmetic.
A house in the deceased's name alone is the single most common reason a 'small' estate ends up in court. The states answer it three different ways.
The signer of a small-estate affidavit takes on a personal duty: pay the estate's debts in the order the law sets, or owe them yourself. Here is that order, in plain words.
Everything this site teaches a grieving family to untangle can be pre-untangled by the living, in an afternoon, for free. This page is for the person who never wants their kids to need this checker.
This site is the after. Two sister pages walk with it:
Yes — the full verdict, the door, the form's name, the date your clock runs out. The paid kit is the walkthrough and the working tools behind the verdict, starting with the bank-refusal playbook; the verdict itself is never held back.
Usually not — branch refusals of valid affidavits are the most documented failure in this field, and searchers type the big banks' names into that question. Read the guide on when the bank says no; the kit leads with the full playbook. One honest exception: Georgia banks are not legally required to honor the bank-account affidavit at all.
In most states, no — the affidavit works with or without a will. In a few it changes everything: Texas moves a will to the muniment-of-title track, and a handful of affidavit laws are no-will tools. The checker asks about the will for exactly this reason.
Then the answer is full probate, on purpose: a court runs the creditors' claims in the legal order, and no family member signs personal responsibility for the shortfall. The checker routes insolvent estates there directly.
No. It is the published probate law, computed for your facts, with citations and a checking date. Near the line, or with a dispute in the family, the checker itself tells you a court filing or one attorney conversation is the safe next step.