Walter had just stepped into his house when an ear-piercing cry filled the air. His heart clenched. That was his baby, Logan.
Abby, his wife, sat at the kitchen table, her face buried in her hands. She looked up when Walter entered, her eyes red and filled with exhaustion.
“Oh, honey,” Walter said, wrapping his arms around her. “How long has he been crying like that?”
“I’ve tried everything, Walter!” Abby sobbed. “He’s been fed, changed, bathed, burped—I even took his temperature! I don’t know what else to do! He just won’t stop!”
Walter exhaled. Parenting had turned their world upside down ever since Logan was born a month ago. But one thing that tore at his heart more than anything was hearing his son cry like this.
“Let’s check on him together,” Walter said, leading Abby toward the nursery.
Logan’s wails grew louder as they approached his crib. But something felt… off. Walter had expected to see his tiny son squirming in distress, but instead, his eyes landed on something else entirely.
A small recording device.
His stomach dropped.
The cries weren’t real.
He reached for the device and pressed the stop button. Instantly, the crying stopped.
“What did you do?” Abby gasped, her voice trembling.
Walter didn’t answer. His shaking hands had found a folded note beside the device. He opened it, and his blood ran cold as he read:
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 his hands and read it, her face turning pale. “Oh my God! What does this mean? Was I rude to someone? Were you? Who would kidnap Logan?!”
Walter’s mind raced. And then, a memory surfaced.
The janitor at the maternity hospital.
Walter had been bringing a small, bear-shaped potted plant for Abby when he tripped over the janitor’s broom. The pot shattered. Furious, Walter had snapped at the man, calling him careless and incompetent. The janitor had glared at him and muttered, “You’ll regret this.”
His heart pounded. “I think I know who took Logan.”
“Who?” Abby’s hands trembled.
“A janitor from the hospital. I insulted him when I was there.” Walter swallowed. “We have to go to the police, Abby. They’ll find Logan.”
“No!” Abby cried. “The note says if we go to the police, we’ll never see Logan again! We should just pay the ransom!”
“We don’t know if that will work! But if we involve the police, they can track this guy down! We know where he works! They could get Logan back faster!”
Abby hesitated, then slowly nodded.
Walter drove straight to the police station, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. But just as he parked, his phone buzzed with a message.
This is your first and last warning. If you enter that police station, your kid goes into the bay. Get the money. Now.
Abby gasped as she read it. Walter looked around, scanning the street. Someone was watching them.
There was no choice. They had to pay the ransom.
But just as Walter was about to drive to the bank, Abby doubled over. “Walter—I don’t feel good—”
She threw up.
Walter clenched his jaw. He couldn’t risk her health. He turned the car around and took her home. “I’ll handle this, okay? Stay here and rest.”
Abby’s eyes welled up with tears. “But what if Logan’s scared? What if they’re hurting him? What if they don’t know how to take care of a baby?”
Walter’s heart twisted. He refused to think about it. He had to focus on getting their son back.
At the bank, Walter withdrew the money. He drove to the locker near the pier, placed the bag inside, and waited. Not long after, he spotted the janitor approaching the locker.
Walter’s pulse pounded in his ears. He watched as the janitor opened the locker and took the bag. But just as Walter prepared to follow, a group of tourists passed by, blocking his view.
“Move it!” Walter growled.
By the time the crowd cleared, the janitor was gone.
Walter frantically searched and finally spotted him slipping into a bus station. He followed.
He caught up just as the janitor placed the bag in another locker. Walter grabbed him, shoving him against the wall. “Where is my son?!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I was just paid to move the bag!”
Walter’s blood boiled. “Don’t lie to me!”
“I swear! A guy paid me to pick it up and drop it off! I never saw his face! Please, I have kids of my own—I’d never hurt a child!”
Walter stared into the man’s eyes. There was no deceit in them.
He released him and yanked open the locker. Empty.
A hole had been cut through the back. Someone had already taken the money.
Walter felt like his world was crashing down. He had lost Logan.
He returned home, dreading how he’d break the news to Abby. But as he entered their bedroom, he froze.
Abby’s things were gone.
A sick realization hit him. She hadn’t been kidnapped.
She had planned this.
She had taken Logan.
But there was one thing Abby didn’t know.
The ransom money had been fake.
Walter knew he needed to act fast. He went to the maternity hospital and found a doctor he recognized.
“I need your help,” Walter said, sliding a wad of cash toward him. “Call my wife. Tell her Logan is sick and she needs to bring him in immediately.”
The doctor hesitated but then nodded. He dialed Abby’s number.
“Mrs. Taylor, this is Dr. Jones. We just discovered a serious condition in one of Logan’s tests. He needs treatment immediately.”
Walter heard Abby’s panicked response. She fell for it.
Minutes later, Abby called him, screaming. “Logan is sick! I need real money for his treatment! You need to send it now!”
Walter’s lip curled. “Fine. I’ll pay.”
But first, he alerted the police.
Walter stood in the hospital lobby when the police stormed in. Abby and his younger brother, James, entered with Logan.
The moment he saw his son, Walter’s eyes filled with tears.
“You’re under arrest for kidnapping!” an FBI agent declared.
Abby clutched Logan. “Stay back! My son is sick!”
“No, he isn’t,” Walter said, stepping forward. “It was all a lie to get you here.”
Abby’s eyes darkened. She lunged for him, but officers tackled her. As she was dragged away, she screamed, “Logan isn’t even yours! He’s James’!”
Walter turned to his brother. James stared at the floor, ashamed.
Walter’s heart shattered. But then he looked at Logan, safe in his arms.
“I don’t care,” he said. “Logan is my son. And I’ll raise him while you rot in prison.”
Holding his baby close, Walter walked away, determined to give Logan the life he deserved.
