"Max!," I shout, going deeper into the apartment. I check our bedroom, the bathroom, the closets, sticking my head into the kitchen and finding nothing. Down the hall, I open the girls' bedroom door, and after I don't see anything, I almost leave, until I hear a low whine.

"Max?" I call again, walking further into the room, listening hard for a moment or two, before I hear frantic scratching from inside the girls' toy chest.

"Jesus Christ," I mutter, throwing open the lid. Out pops Max, shaking and wild-eyed, the cats springing out along with him and immediately darting under the bed.