The sound of my baby’s cries pierced through the house, echoing off the walls like an alarm. It was the kind of cry that rattled your bones, tugging at something deep within you. Walter, my husband, stepped in from the garage just as I sat at the kitchen table, hands pressed against my ears, desperate to drown out the noise.

"How long has he been crying like that?" Walter asked, his voice full of concern as he wrapped his arms around me from behind.

"I've tried everything, Walter!" I burst into tears, my shoulders shaking with frustration. "I've fed him, changed him, bathed him, burped him—nothing works! I even checked his temperature!" My voice cracked. "I don't know what to do anymore!"

We’d only become parents a month ago, and every day had been an emotional rollercoaster. The joy of holding our baby, Luther, was always overshadowed by the overwhelming exhaustion. But nothing, absolutely nothing, had prepared me for this—Luther’s cries that wouldn’t stop.

Walter squeezed my shoulders gently, trying to reassure me, but we both knew: the noise had been relentless for hours. It felt like the walls themselves were closing in, and I couldn’t breathe.

“Come on, let’s go check on him together,” Walter said, guiding me down the hallway toward Luther’s nursery.

We entered his room, expecting the usual. But instead of seeing Luther, we found something strange—something that made my heart drop to the floor.

A small dictaphone, sitting on his crib, with a note beside it. My breath caught in my thr0at.

“What is this?” I whispered.

Walter didn’t say anything. He picked up the dictaphone and pressed the stop button. To our sh0ck, the cries of our baby ceased immediately.

“What the hell?” Walter muttered, confused. His fingers fumbled over the note, which he held out to me. "It doesn’t make any sense. This isn't..."

I took the note from his hand, my heart thudding in my chest. As I read the words aloud, they sent a chill down my spine:

“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.”

I felt my world tilt. My st0mach twisted into knots. My hands began to shake as I looked at Walter, but he was just as stunned as I was.

“What is this?” I asked in a shaky voice. “Was I rude to someone? Who would take Luther?”

Walter paused, his face pale, before something clicked in his mind. “Wait...” he said, his eyes widening in realization. "It has to be him."

He looked at me, his expression shifting to one of sh0ck. "Remember the janitor I argued with at the maternity hospital? I was carrying that bear-shaped pot for you, but I tripped over his broom... I was rude, and he told me I’d regret it."

A wave of dread washed over me. Could this really be happening? Was this the same janitor I’d overheard Walter yelling at just weeks ago?

Before I could process the flood of thoughts, Walter pulled me close, his face tight with determination. "We need to go to the police, honey. It’s the only way we can get Luther back."

"No," I said, panic rising in my thr0at. "The note says we can’t go to the police. We’ll never see him again!"

Walter’s face twisted in frustration. "But we don’t know if we give him the money if we’ll ever get Luther back. And this janitor... he’s working at the hospital. He’s a nobody. The police could arrest him. They could find him."

“I don’t care,” I whispered, my heart in my thr0at. “We have to try.”

Walter grabbed my hand, and we rushed to the police station. But before we could even get out of the car, Walter’s phone buzzed with a message. He quickly read it, his face going ashen.

“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.”

Anatashia gasped, her face pale as she read the message over his shoulder.

“We have no choice,” Walter said in a low voice, panic building inside him. "I have to give him the money. I don't want to risk losing Luther."

With his heart pounding, Walter sped to the bank. But as he drove, Anatashia suddenly became nauseous, throwing up violently in the car. It was becoming unbearable for both of us.

"I can’t believe this is happening,” I whispered, trying to comfort her. “But this is the only way. We’ll get him back."

Walter tried to reassure me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was horr!bly wrong.

After what felt like an eternity, Walter reached the storage lockers at the pier. He went to the designated location and dropped the money inside. But the waiting felt unbearable. He was on edge, scanning the crowds for the janitor.

Then, he saw him. A flash of recognition h!t Walter, and he immediately followed the janitor from a safe distance, heart racing.

The janitor walked briskly to a bus station. It seemed like a scene straight out of a thriller, Walter’s chest tightening with each step. The janitor placed the bag of money inside another locker and then... disappeared.

Walter was furious. He hurried to the lockers, but to his horror, the bag of money was gone. There was a small hole in the back of the locker, a thin steel plate loosely screwed in place. It was a setup.

The entire plan had fallen apart. But what hurt more than anything was the realization that Luther was gone. And Anatashia... Was she part of this twisted game?

I arrived back home later that night, thinking everything had been handled. But as I opened the door, I realized my worst fear: Anatashia’s things were gone. No clothes. No toiletries. Not even her hand lotion.

“Where did you go?” Walter asked himself, his heart racing. He tried calling her again and again, but she didn’t answer. His worst suspicions were confirmed: She had betrayed him. And worse, she’d taken Luther.

Walter thought for a moment. Then, a plan began to form. He rushed to the maternity hospital, hoping that somewhere in the hospital’s sterile corridors, he would find a clue. And he did. He found a doctor who could help him find answers.

Walter made a deal with the doctor, and they agreed on a phone call to Anatashia, designed to sound like an urgent medical issue with Luther. The doctor dialed her number, and the news was delivered: Luther supposedly had a rare condition that required immediate treatment.

Walter was unsure if this would work, but he couldn’t afford to let go of the tiny sliver of hope.

When Anatashia answered, panic was evident in her voice, and she immediately demanded money for Luther’s treatment.

"What’s wrong with him? Where is he?" Walter demanded.

But Anatashia cried that Luther needed urgent medical care and swore that he wouldn’t survive without it. Walter knew something was wrong. His heart sank further as the truth became painfully clear.

Eventually, everything unraveled in a police raid at the hospital, where Walter’s worst fears came true: Anatashia and her accomplice were arrested for kidnapping Luther.

Luther was safe. And as for Anatashia? She was arrested. But the nightmare wasn’t over. When she tried to lash out at Walter, declaring that Luther wasn’t even his son, Walter knew what he had to do.

"I’ll adopt him if that’s what it takes," Walter vowed, his heart steadfast. “I’ll fight for him.”

And with that, Walter took his son back, vowing to protect him from everything and everyone—even the woman he once loved.