Newborn Baby Cries All Day No Matter What Parents Do, after a While They Check His Crib

After a long day at work, Walter returned home to the sound of his baby son, Logan, crying loudly. His wife, Abby, was at her wit’s end, trying everything she could think of to calm him. But nothing worked. Walter, sensing the distress in her voice, immediately went to check on the baby.

As soon as he entered, the piercing cry of Logan filled the house. Abby sat at the kitchen table, clearly exhausted and distraught.

“How long has he been crying like this?” Walter asked softly, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“I’ve tried everything!” Abby burst into tears. “He’s been fed, changed, bathed, burped, and I even took his temperature! I don’t know what’s wrong!”

A month into parenthood, Walter knew how much Logan’s cries could unsettle him, and Abby’s breakdown only made it worse.

“Come on, let’s go see him together,” Walter said gently, leading Abby toward the baby’s room.

Approaching the crib with a hopeful smile, Walter’s expression faltered when he saw what was inside. It wasn’t Logan. It was a dictaphone, playing Logan’s cries on a loop, accompanied by a chilling note. Walter pressed stop, and the cries fell silent.

“What… what is this?” Abby stammered, her voice shaking. Walter didn’t answer. He stared at the note in his hand, which Abby snatched from him.

“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 gasped. “What is this? Was I rude to someone? Were you? Who would kidnap Logan?”

Walter’s mind raced back to an incident at the hospital. He remembered a janitor he’d insulted—someone who’d been trying to help him when he’d broken a gift for Abby. Furious, Walter had called the man names, and the janitor had muttered a cryptic warning: “You’ll regret it.”

“This has to be him,” Walter said, his voice low with realization.

But Abby was hesitant. “The note says if we go to the police, we’ll never see Logan again. Maybe we should just pay the ransom.”

“No,” Walter responded firmly. “We don’t know if he’ll return Logan even if we pay. Think about it—he’s a janitor. He wouldn’t know if we called the police, and if we tell them where he works, they could catch him and bring Logan back.”

Abby reluctantly agreed.

They drove to the police station, but as Walter prepared to step out of the car, his phone buzzed with a new message: “This is your first and last warning. If you go to the police, your child’s going into the bay. Get the money to the location mentioned below.”

Abby gasped at the message, and Walter scanned the area for any sign of the kidnapper. But there were too many people. It was clear now—the only way to save Logan was to deliver the ransom.

Walter was about to drive to the bank when Abby’s condition worsened. She was nauseous, throwing up twice. Realizing the stress was too much for her, he decided to take her home.

“I’m sorry, honey, but this is for the best,” Walter said quietly. Abby didn’t protest.

“Do you think the kidnapper even knows how to take care of a baby?” she sobbed. “What if he’s hurting Logan?”

Walter didn’t respond. His thoughts darkened as he imagined Logan, alone and scared.

Once home, Walter went to the bank and then to the locker near the pier. But when he opened it, the bag was gone. It was empty, and a hole had been cut in the back of the locker.

Walter rushed to the back, where he found the thin steel plate covering the hole, but there was no sign of the money or the kidnapper. Panic gripped him. He had no idea how to explain this to Abby.

When he returned home, he noticed Abby’s belongings were gone, along with her hand lotion. She had vanished.

At first, Walter suspected she was taken too, but then the truth hit him. Abby wasn’t the victim—she was the kidnapper. Her sickness had been an act, and the ransom money was fake.

Devastated but determined, Walter visited the maternity hospital where Logan was born, hoping someone could help him reach Abby. He found a doctor who, after some persuasion, agreed to make a call to Abby pretending to have urgent news about Logan.

The doctor dialed Abby’s number and told her that Logan had a serious condition and needed immediate treatment. Walter overheard Abby’s frantic response, confirming his worst fears—she was the one behind the kidnapping.

Walter was heartbroken. As he walked back downstairs, his phone rang. It was Abby, demanding the real ransom money, insisting that Logan was gravely ill.

“I’ll pay,” Walter said, hanging up. He sent the money but had no idea if it would bring Logan back.

At the hospital, Walter spotted his brother, James, carrying Logan in his arms. Suddenly, FBI agents surrounded Abby and James, arresting them both for kidnapping.

“You think you’ve won?” Abby screamed at Walter as the agents handcuffed her. “Logan isn’t even yours! You couldn’t get me pregnant, remember?”

Walter froze, his heart aching at the bitter words. But none of that mattered now. Logan was safe. And Walter would do whatever it took to protect his son from anyone—even his own flesh and blood.