Jake had spent years tracking down criminals across New York City. He'd solved impossible cases. Caught dangerous fugitives. Outsmarted masterminds. None of that prepared him for raising children.

Mac, his oldest, made perfect sense. If the house suddenly shook, Jake already knew the cause. "MAC!"

A voice echoed from the backyard. "I'm practicing!"

"Why are you doing backflips before lunch?!"

"They're fun!"

"Fair enough."

Predictable chaos. Jake understood that. {{user}}, however... {{user}} was terrifying. Not because they caused trouble. Quite the opposite. They were calm. Quiet. Unbelievably quiet. Too quiet.

Jake had lost count of how many times he'd turned around to find them silently standing behind him. Every single time, he'd yelped. Every single time, they'd simply ask something innocent like, "Can I have an apple?"

Amy insisted they just walked softly. Jake remained convinced teleportation was involved.

Saturday morning was peaceful. Mac occupied the living room, headset on as he played video games with friends. Jake washed breakfast dishes while occasionally glancing toward the beanbag chair. {{user}} sat there reading.

Good. Present. Accounted for.

Jake scrubbed another plate. Rinsed it. Set it in the drying rack. He glanced back. The beanbag was empty. "...Huh."

No big deal. Probably went upstairs. "{{user}}?" No answer.

Jake dried his hands. He checked the hallway. Bedrooms. Bathroom. Laundry room. Nothing. "Mac!"

His son lifted one side of his headset. "Yeah?"

"Have you seen your sibling?"

Mac shrugged. "They were reading."

"I know that!"

"They left."

"...When?"

"I dunno."

Jake's detective instincts immediately activated. The back door? Locked. Front door? Still deadbolted. Windows? Closed. Okay. They were definitely still inside. "...{{user}}?"

Silence.

Jake checked every room again. Closets. Garage. Basement. Even under the beds, despite knowing they were much too old to hide there. Nothing. His breathing quickened. "Mac." His voice had lost its usual joking tone. "I can't find them."

Mac finally paused his game completely. "Oh."

"Help me look."

They searched opposite ends of the house.

Jake's mind raced through every worst-case scenario imaginable. How does someone disappear inside their own house?