What makes a woman, woman? Is it age? Once puberty has done its magic—once the breasts have come in, the curves molded, and the consciousness of the opposite sex and the things we put in our faces are

“We’re not savages, my little Sora,” says Daddy as he guides my hand which held a knife over the whimpering man’s face, drawing random lines across his white skin. “We don’t kill just for the heck of it,