Walter stepped through the front door, exhausted from work, only to be met with the piercing cries of his infant son. The wails echoed through the house, sharp and unrelenting. His wife, Abby, sat slumped at the kitchen table, dark circles under her eyes, her hands gripping a cold cup of tea. She looked utterly drained.
“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, her voice thick with frustration and exhaustion. “I’ve tried everything, Walter! He’s been fed, changed, bathed, burped. I even checked his temperature! He just won’t stop crying!”
Walter’s heart clenched. They had only been parents for a month, but already, their lives had been turned upside down. Sleep was a distant memory, and every cry from Logan sent panic coursing through them.
“Come on, let’s figure this out together,” Walter said, taking Abby’s hand and leading her to Logan’s room.
The moment they stepped inside, Walter’s cheerful tone vanished. He expected to see his son wailing in the crib, but instead, there was only a small black device. A dictaphone. And a note. Walter hesitated before pressing the stop button on the recorder. Instantly, the crying ceased.
“What did you do?” Abby gasped behind him, but Walter barely heard her. His fingers trembled as he picked up the note and unfolded it. His heart pounded against his ribs as he read the chilling message:
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.
Abby snatched the note from Walter’s hands, her face turning pale as she read it. “Oh my God! What does this mean? Was I rude to someone? Were you? Who would kidnap Logan?”
Walter’s mind raced. Then, it hit him—
The janitor from the maternity hospital.
Walter had been carrying a bear-shaped pot for Abby when he tripped over the janitor’s broom. The pot shattered, and in his frustration, Walter had lashed out. “Watch where you’re going!” he had snapped at the janitor, calling him incompetent and careless. The old man had glared at him and muttered, You’ll regret it!
“It has to be him!” Walter said. “The janitor from the hospital!”
“We should just pay the ransom,” Abby said, her voice trembling.
Walter shook his head. “And what if he doesn’t give Logan back? We need to be smart. He wouldn’t even know if we contacted the police. Besides, if we tell them where he works, they can arrest him and bring Logan home.”
Abby hesitated, but finally nodded. “Okay. But we need to be careful.”
Walter drove straight to the police station, but as they pulled up, his phone buzzed. The message sent chills down his spine:
This is your first and last warning. If you enter that police station, your kid’s going into the bay. Get the money now.
Abby gasped, clutching her stomach. Walter looked around, trying to spot the kidnapper, but there were too many people. He made a decision.
“I’m going to the bank,” Walter said, starting the car. But before he could drive away, Abby clutched her stomach and retched. She leaned over, heaving as tears streamed down her face.
“I… I can’t do this,” she sobbed. “What if he’s suffering? What if they don’t know how to take care of a newborn?”
Walter clenched the wheel, his knuckles turning white. He imagined Logan crying in a dark, unfamiliar room, his tiny hands reaching for parents who weren’t there. “We’ll get him back, Abby. I promise.”
Walter withdrew the money and drove to the pier, placing the bag inside the locker as instructed. Then, he hid in his car, scanning the crowd. Soon, he spotted the janitor.
Walter’s pulse raced as he watched the old man retrieve the bag. He was about to follow when a group of tourists blocked his view. By the time they passed, the janitor was gone.
Walter searched frantically, then saw him crossing the street. Without hesitation, he leapt from his car and followed. The janitor entered a bus station and placed the bag inside another locker. When he turned, Walter was ready. He grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the lockers.
“Where is my son?” Walter growled. “I’ve done everything you asked. Now give me Logan!”
The janitor held up his hands. “I don’t know anything about your son! Some guy paid me a hundred bucks to collect and drop off the bag. That’s all!”
Walter’s stomach dropped. He shoved past the man and yanked open the locker. It was empty. Someone had cut a hole in the back. Logan was still gone.
Heart hammering, Walter rushed home, only to find their house eerily silent. “Abby?” he called, running upstairs. His breath caught in his throat. Her clothes, her bags—gone.
He called her phone. No answer. He called again. Nothing.
Then, it hit him.
“No…” Walter whispered. “No, it can’t be…”
Abby had been behind it all. The ransom demand. The disappearance. She had kidnapped their own son.
But Walter wasn’t giving up. He had one last trick up his sleeve.
He found a doctor at the maternity hospital and paid him to make an urgent call to Abby. The doctor called, his voice grave. “Mrs. Taylor, we just discovered something very serious in Logan’s test results. He needs immediate treatment. If he’s not brought in today, his life could be at risk.”
Walter barely had time to process what happened next. Abby panicked. She rushed Logan to the hospital. But Walter had already called the police.
As Abby arrived, FBI agents surrounded her. “You’re under arrest for kidnapping!” one of them shouted. “Hand the child over, nice and slowly.”
Abby’s eyes flashed with desperation. “You don’t understand! He’s sick! I was protecting him!”
“No, he isn’t,” Walter said, stepping forward. “You lied.”
Abby’s face twisted with rage. “You think you’ve won? Logan isn’t even yours! You couldn’t get me pregnant, remember? But your brother could!”
Walter turned to see his younger brother, James, frozen in place, his eyes downcast.
Walter’s heart broke. But none of it mattered. He had Logan in his arms. And that was all that mattered.
“I don’t care who fathered him,” Walter said. “I’m his dad. And I’ll fight for him. While you rot in prison.”
With that, he turned and walked away, his son safe in his arms at last.