Father stands in his night robes, scanning a faded map. No sign of hatred. Not
even a hint of disgust.
For him, carving MAGGOT into a girl’s back is just another day’s work.
…
In that instant it hits me: Zulaikha’s death. Zélie’s screams. They don’t mean a
thing to him. Because they’re maji, they’re nothing.
This could be compared to How some people treat dogs and cats with disgust just because they are animals.
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