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Ah. Yeah, that would be better. Have you ever driven a bus? Caine shook his head. No, I have not. Strangely enough, Sam said, remembering the long ago moment of terror and competence that had earned him the nicknames School Bus Sam, I have.

Michael Grant

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Michael Grant
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The point is,” Caine continued, “you and I share something in common, Sam. We were born just three minutes apart.” Sam felt a tingle go up his spine. “Three minutes,” Caine said, moving closer. “You go first. And then me.” “No,” Sam said. “It can’t be.” “It can,” Caine said. “It is. And you are… brother.
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Sam was slow getting up. To Quinn he looked like an old man standing up after slipping on the ice. But he looked up at Quinn and performed a sort of salute. I owe you, Quinn. I'm sorry I didn't get him, Quinn answered. Sam shook his head. Man, don't ever be sorry you don't want to kill someone.
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She placed her palm over his wound, pressing as hard as she dared. She would stop the blood. She would hold him and stop his life from escaping. She would hold life inside him and he wouldn’t die
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