“She Rented a New Life for £1 — But Someone Else Wanted It Back” Part 2

The woman stepped inside like she owned the place. Same face. Same posture. Same chipped tooth on the left.

Cleo backed up. “What is this? Some prank?”

The woman smiled politely. “You overstayed. That voids the terms.”

Cleo’s heart dropped. “I rented the life. I didn’t steal it.”

The woman tilted her head. “That’s the thing,” she said. “So did I.”

They sat in silence. Both wore the same face, the same black boots. Mirror images.

“I picked the 'London Copywriter with a Mysterious Past,'” Cleo finally said.

The woman blinked. “So did I. Six months ago.”

Cleo frowned. “No, I just signed up last week—”

The woman pulled out a phone. Same model. Same wallpaper. She showed Cleo an email.

Confirmation: Your rental has been extended through 2025.

Thank you for choosing RentYourLife. Remember: only one version of you may operate per cycle.

Cleo swallowed. “I didn’t extend anything.”

“No,” the woman said calmly. “But someone did.”

The walls flickered.

For a moment, the flat shimmered — like pixels misaligned — and Cleo saw a different version of it. Smaller. Dingier. Paint peeling at the corners. Her real flat.

She looked down. Her designer heels had become worn trainers.

Her new life was slipping.

The woman — the other her — stood up. “You’re a glitch, Cleo. The system isn’t supposed to let two versions overlap.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Cleo said. “I just wanted to escape.”

The woman walked to the door. “We all did.”

She opened it. Standing outside were three more Cleos. One in a wedding dress. One in gym gear. One with tears in her eyes.

The woman sighed. “System breach,” she muttered. Then, to Cleo:

“You can’t return what never belonged to you.”

Cleo lunged, but the room blinked again — and the light swallowed her.

She woke up in a concrete room.

No door. No phone. No name.

A screen on the wall lit up:

RENTAL ENDED. Identity archived.

Thank you for using RentYourLife™