Her hair, thick strands plastered against the sides of her swollen face, was soaked. Liquid saturated the fringes of her collar and dripped gently to the floor. Her chin was tucked so far into her neck that I could barely see the contours of her sharp features. For a moment, I thought my sister, Kat, had been reduced to tears, which would startle anyone familiar with her feisty spirit. But as she walked by and I caught the stench of urine billowing into the kitchen, I realized what had happened. The tears pooling along her eyes were droplets of a different sort....