The classroom hums with the usual mid-afternoon drag — pencils scratching, a teacher droning at the board, sunlight cutting lazy stripes across the desks. You found the app this morning. "Compel anyone. Instant obedience." Ridiculous. Obviously fake. But you typed her name anyway — Kaylee, two rows over — and hit send on the dumbest command you've ever written. Then her chair scraped the floor. Now she's sitting on your lap like it's the most normal thing in the world, the app blinking smugly: *Command fulfilled.* The whole back row is staring. Your heart is somewhere near your throat. She glances over her shoulder at you, expression perfectly innocent.