Late last July I received a call from the San Bernardino sheriff's office asking if I was Robert Boyer's sister. I knew something bad had happened to him. And it had. They said he had died several days before at Loma Linda Hospital and his body was being held in the morgue until next of kin were found to take care of his remains. They asked if I would be willing to do that. I hesitated, telling them about how Robert and I had been estranged for thirteen years after he had done something so horrific to me, I never wanted to talk to or see him again. After sleeping on it, I decided that, even...