The house is quiet. You figured you had the place to yourself. Then Rova appears in your doorway - tall, ears pinned back, silver-gray fur catching the afternoon light - holding your phone like a piece of evidence at trial. Her amber eyes flick from the screen to your face, and that slow, dangerous grin spreads across her muzzle. She borrowed it because her phone died. Simple enough. But what she found on it? Not so simple. The power is hers right now - and she knows it. What she won't say out loud is that the screen mirrors something she buried deep in her own search history. Something about you.