The relentless cries of my newborn son, Logan, filled the house as I returned from work. My wife, Abby, looked overwhelmed, tears streaming down her face as she explained how nothing seemed to soothe him. Desperate to help, I went to the nursery, only to find an unsettling scene.

The crying was deafening as I approached the crib. To my shock, there was no baby, only a dictaphone and a note. My heart raced as I pressed the stop button on the dictaphone, silencing the cries. The note 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 was distraught, asking who could have kidnapped our baby. The only person I could think of was the janitor from the hospital, whom I had once scolded harshly. I feared he was behind this and urged Abby to avoid the police, fearing that if we alerted them, Logan might be harmed.

Despite Abby’s protests, I went to the bank to withdraw the ransom money. Once I placed it in the storage locker as instructed, I waited nearby, hoping to catch the kidnapper. To my dismay, the janitor appeared to collect the money but vanished before I could confront him.

Returning home, I discovered Abby’s belongings were gone, confirming my worst fear: she was involved. The ransom money had been fake. Desperate to find Logan, I contacted a doctor at the hospital, who agreed to help me with a plan to lure Abby into revealing her location.

The doctor called Abby, pretending that Logan needed urgent medical treatment. Abby’s reaction confirmed my suspicion—she was deeply involved in the scheme. With a renewed sense of purpose, I transferred the real ransom money, hoping to end the ordeal.

At the hospital, I saw my brother James entering with Abby and Logan. Police and FBI agents soon surrounded them. Abby and James were arrested, and I was reunited with Logan.

Abby, restrained by the police, angrily declared that Logan wasn’t mine. I turned to James, feeling the sting of betrayal but focused on Logan. “My name is on his paperwork. He’s my son, no matter what,” I declared.

Holding my son close, I walked away from the chaos, determined to move forward with my family.