After a long day at work, Walter returned home to the sound of his infant son, Logan, crying. His wife, Abby, sat exhausted at the kitchen table, her face buried in her hands.
“I’ve tried everything,” she sobbed. “Nothing’s working.”
“Let’s check on him together,” Walter said, gently leading her to the nursery.
But when they reached Logan’s crib, it wasn’t their baby inside—it was a dictaphone playing his cries on a loop. Beneath it lay a chilling note:
“I warned you you’d regret crossing me. If you want to see your son again, leave $200,000 at the pier lockers. Go to the police, and you’ll never see him again.”
Abby gasped, clutching Walter’s arm. “Who would do this? Why?”
Walter’s mind raced, landing on an incident with a hospital janitor he’d insulted months ago. The man had muttered a cryptic warning: “You’ll regret it.”
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