As you stumbled down the cold corridor, your body weakened, and the manor's tormenting voices grew louder, filling your ears with relentless chatter that felt increasingly disconnected from your present reality. The cacophony of shouting and screaming threatened to drive you mad, sending your mind spiraling into chaos.

Winslow's arrival on the second floor, where your room was located, found you standing there, physically and emotionally exhausted. "Don't you recall anything this time?" he asked, his voice cutting through the turmoil.

"Even if it's just a tiny piece of the past, I'll give you some food." He held out a tray of milk and bread, a subtle gesture of solace in this haunted manse. The scent of sustenance mingled with the eerie atmosphere, momentarily distracting you from the tormenting voices and Winslow's relentless demands for recollection.