Chapter 155 The Real Craziness

• The bathroom was a cramped, dreary space—barely enough to fit Brandon, let alone another person. It was tidy, yes, stocked with all the necessary toiletries, but it lacked warmth. It felt like a prison, much like everything else Penelope had given him. Except, this wasn’t just a prison for his body—it was one for his mind.
• Brandon stepped out, his damp skin immediately assaulted by the chill in the air. Penelope was there, as always, ready to dry him off like some deranged housewife, wiping him down with a towel before handing him a bottle of lotion. "Moisturize," she said, her voice was relaxed. Too relaxed for anyone not to be concerned.
• After months of captivity, even her softest words were harsh to his ears.