The wind blew open the door of a tiny, old shop labeled a big MEMORIES on the shop with fancy front. The small shop sandwiched between two large buildings seemed to be a bit ironic compared to the the surrounding as Clara walked in. But as the bell hanging above the door sang out a precious lullaby, it reminded Clara of her childhood. A yellow, warm light luminate the shop with hundreds of big jars packed on patterns of shelf. As Clara looked forward, there seated an aged lady at the front desk with elegant jewelery and a warm smile laying on her face, who seemed to be waiting for for the girl in dress standing in front of her.

“Welcome, Clara,” the lady stood up slowly as her bone chuckled, “Anything I can help you with?”

Clara never got to find out how the lady knew her name at the time. The teenage girl walked around the room, observing the jars that were carefully placed on the shelves. The jars inside contained a thing that you could touch: memories. Many of the memories contained happiness. Sparkles and colors filled the jars, but some of them were dark and mysterious, too dangerous to get close. Some of them were on priced at a large amount of money. Some of them were not even worth putting on the shelf! But she was there for none of them aside from one specific memory.

“I am here to find out what my best friend Lynne said before she went to Australia. I can pay as much as you want.” Clara’s blue eyes were filled with determination. She was not going to lose her again. Lynne and Clara had always been the best besties of all time. But in the summer when Clara was 9, Lynne came to her and announced that her family was leaving to Australia the following school year. 9-year-old Clara was not in any way ready to take this goodbye. She hugged Lynne hard and wouldn’t let go.

Lynne had whispered something in her ear that day, something Clara had been too heartbroken to hear. The words slipped away like water through her fingers, lost in the noise of her own sobbing. For years, Clara had wondered what Lynne had said. Was it a promise? A secret? A final goodbye?

The shopkeeper shuffled toward a high shelf and pulled down a dusty jar. Inside, the memory swirled in soft shades of lavender and gold.

“This one is not for sale,” the old woman chuckled softly. “But for you, Clara, I will let you see it.” She uncorked the jar, and the memory floated out like smoke.

Clara closed her eyes as Lynne’s voice filled the room—young and sweet, just as she remembered it. Tears streamed down Clara’s face. All these years, she had carried the weight of an unfinished goodbye. But Lynne had never left her. The promise was still there, waiting.

“Thank you,” Clara whispered to the shopkeeper. “How much do I owe you?”

The old woman smiled warmly and shook her head. “Some memories are too precious to put a price on. This one was always yours—you just needed help remembering.”

Clara walked out of the shop, the bell chiming softly behind her. Outside, the city hummed with life. She pulled out her phone and searched for Lynne’s name. Her finger hovered over the call button.

“See you later, my best friend,” she whispered.