Opening page…
Opening page…

You can save someone you love or five strangers, but not both. Almost everyone would save their own; impartial arithmetic says five is more than one.
You would drive across town at midnight for your sister without a second thought, and you hesitate to give a stranger twenty minutes. Most of the time that feels like love, not a moral failing. It only starts to look strange when you write it down as a rule: my people count for more.