9: Inside No.

I turned to Mr. Finch, and he smiled. "You are...?"

"What do you want to forget?" Mr. Finch asked, his voice low and soothing. inside no. 9

"I want to forget my name," I said finally. I turned to Mr

The shopkeeper, an elderly man with sunken eyes, looked up from behind the counter. "Welcome to Memories Bought and Sold. I am the proprietor, Mr. Finch." Finch asked, his voice low and soothing

I thought of my childhood, of laughter and love. Of moments that still lingered, refusing to fade. I thought of the pain and the sorrow, the memories that kept me up at night.

He led me to a shelf filled with small, ornate boxes. Each one was adorned with a label, listing the contents: "Joy", "Regret", "Nostalgia". He opened a box labeled "Identity" and pulled out a small vial filled with shimmering dust.

I shook my head, feeling a sense of freedom. "I...I don't know."