Reborn with a Contract Shop

He opens his eyes in a second life and finds the keys to a shop already in his hand. The city looks ordinary. The contracts in the drawers do not. They bind adults to the house by clauses he did not write, a fantasy of ownership that the reborn man is expected to run as a business. The jump through time gave him the counter. It did not give him a clean conscience. / Customers arrive looking for what the shop has always sold, and the place seems pleased when he plays along. He can still read the contracts before he treats anyone as inventory.