Walter stepped into the house after a long day at work, expecting the usual warmth of home. Instead, a piercing wail filled the air. His heart clenched. Logan was crying—again.
He walked into the kitchen and found his wife, Abby, slumped in a chair, her hands gripping her temples. Her face was pale, her eyes red and puffy.
“Oh, honey,” Walter murmured, stepping behind her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “How long has he been crying like that?”
Abby let out a shaky breath and turned to face him. “I’ve tried everything, Walter!” she sobbed. “I fed him, changed him, burped him, bathed him—nothing is working! I even took his temperature. He’s not sick! He just won’t stop!”
Walter’s heart ached for her. They had become parents only a month ago, and it had been the most exhausting, emotional time of their lives. But something about Logan’s cries felt… off. They were loud and constant, almost mechanical.
“Let’s check on him together,” Walter said, guiding Abby toward Logan’s nursery.
As they stepped into the dimly lit room, Walter moved toward the crib. The wailing continued. But something felt wrong.
His hands trembled as he leaned over the crib. Instead of Logan, there was a small, black dictaphone, playing a looping recording of a baby’s cries.
Walter’s breath caught in his throat. He slammed the stop button, and the house fell into eerie silence.
“What did you do?” Abby gasped.
Walter didn’t respond. His fingers had just found a folded note beside the device. His eyes scanned the words, and the color drained from his face.
Abby snatched the note from his hands and read aloud, her voice quivering.
“I warned you that you’d regret being rude to me.
If you want to see your baby again, leave $200,000 in the luggage storage lockers near the pier.
If you go to the police, you’ll never see him again.”
Her hands shook. “Oh my God! What does this mean? Who would do this? Was I rude to someone? Were you?” She turned wild, desperate eyes toward Walter.
His mind raced, and then it hit him. The janitor.
Walter remembered the day at the maternity hospital when he had been in a rush, carrying a small bear-shaped pot for Abby. He had tripped over a janitor’s broom, shattering the pot into pieces. Frustrated, he had lashed out at the man, calling him incompetent.
The janitor’s parting words echoed in his memory: “You’ll regret it.”
“I think I know who did this,” Walter murmured. “It has to be him. The janitor at the hospital. I was— I was rude to him.”
Abby shook her head. “We have to pay the ransom, Walter. We have to get Logan back.”
Walter clenched his jaw. “We don’t know if he’ll return Logan even if we pay. But the police might be able to track him down if we report it.”
Abby’s face crumpled. “But the note says—”
Before she could finish, Walter’s phone vibrated. A message popped up:
“This is your first and last warning. If you enter that police station, your kid’s going into the bay. Get the money to the location mentioned below.”
Walter’s stomach turned to stone. His eyes darted around the street outside, scanning the crowd. Someone was watching them.
“We have no choice,” he said. “I’ll get the money.”
He turned to take Abby home first, but she suddenly doubled over, gagging. “Walter, I don’t feel—” She ran to the sink and threw up.
“Okay, okay, you’re not coming with me. You need to rest.”
“But Logan—!”
“I’ll bring him home. I promise.”
With a heavy heart, Walter left Abby at home and rushed to the bank. He withdrew the money and drove straight to the pier. He placed the bag inside the locker as instructed and backed away, watching.
Minutes later, he spotted him—the janitor. Walter’s fists clenched. The man took the bag and disappeared into the crowd.
Walter gritted his teeth and followed him. The janitor moved swiftly, weaving through the streets until he reached another set of lockers at the bus station. Walter watched as he placed the bag inside a different locker.
Now was his chance.
Walter rushed forward, grabbed the janitor, and shoved him against the lockers. “Where is my son?!” he demanded. “I did what you asked—now give him back!”
The janitor’s eyes widened in fear. “I don’t have your kid!” he blurted. “I was paid to move the money, that’s all! I don’t know anything about a baby!”
Walter’s heart pounded. “Who hired you?”
“I—I never saw his face! He paid me in the parking lot! Please, I swear I don’t know anything!”
Walter’s stomach twisted. He let the janitor go and yanked open the locker. It was empty. A hole had been cut in the back, and the money was gone.
He had been tricked.
Defeated, he drove home, dreading what he would tell Abby. But when he arrived, something was wrong. The house was too quiet. He called out her name, but there was no answer.
Then he noticed—her things were gone. Even her favorite hand lotion was missing.
A cold realization struck him.
Abby had taken Logan. She had staged the kidnapping.
A mixture of betrayal and rage flooded Walter’s veins. His mind reeled. But one thing gave him hope—the ransom money had been fake. He still had a chance to get his son back.
Walter needed a plan. He visited the maternity hospital and found a doctor who owed him a favor. With a hefty bribe, he convinced the doctor to call Abby with an urgent lie.
Minutes later, Abby called him. “Logan is sick! He needs treatment! Walter, send me the money now!”
Walter gritted his teeth. “I’ll pay. Just bring him in.”
He had already contacted the police.
At the hospital, Walter watched as Abby walked in with Logan. The moment she reached the reception desk, officers swarmed her.
“You’re under arrest for kidnapping!” an FBI agent shouted. “Hand the child over now!”
Abby shrieked and tried to run, but there was nowhere to go. The police restrained her while Walter rushed forward, scooping Logan into his arms.
Tears streamed down his face. He had his son back.
But Abby wasn’t finished. As she was dragged away, she screamed, “You think you won? Logan isn’t even yours! James is his real father!”
Walter froze. His gaze snapped to his younger brother, who stood nearby, unable to meet his eyes.
Pain burned through Walter’s chest. But then, he looked down at Logan—his son.
“I don’t care,” he said firmly. “I will raise him. I will be his father. And you two will rot in jail.”
With one last glare at Abby and James, Walter turned and walked away, holding Logan close, vowing to give him the life he deserved.
