For Nolan Suart, senior year of high school was all about one thing: saving up for college. While his friends spent their evenings glued to video games or lounging at fast food joints, Nolan worked. But not at the mall or a coffee shop like everyone else thought he should. No, Nolan was a babysitter. His friends teased him relentlessly for it.
“You’re babysitting? What, were all the dog walking gigs taken?” his friend Conner snickered one afternoon at lunch.
“Hey, Conner, maybe Nolan can babysit you,” chimed in another friend, Trent. “God knows you act like a toddler half the time.”
Nolan rolled his eyes and focused on his sandwich. “Laugh all you want, but at least I’ll have tuition money. Good luck paying for college with your gaming skills.”
The truth was, babysitting wasn’t just a job for Nolan––it was a simple, quick way to earn good money. Parents trusted him. He was reliable, good with kids, and responsible, even if his reputation among his peers suffered for it. That Friday night, Nolan was booked for a new client. The job was recommended by Mrs. Sullivan from his neighborhood, who had raved about his babysitting skills to her cousin, Lina Stone. Mrs. Stone and her husband had just moved into a large, old house on the edge of town and needed someone to watch their 6-year-old son, Lucas, for the evening. Nolan didn’t know much about the family, but Mrs. Sullivan had vouched for them, so he didn’t think twice. At 6 p.m., Nolan rang the bell at the Stone’s house. The front door creaked open to reveal a nervous-looking woman in her late 30s, dressed in an elegant black dress. Her husband, a tall man with a sharp jawline and a forced smile, appeared behind her.
“Nolan, right?” Mrs. Stone said, ushering him inside. “Thank you so much for doing this on such short notice.”
“No problem,” Nolan replied, glancing around the dimly lit house. It had a musty, slightly eerie vibe, with high ceilings and antique furniture.
“Lucas’s upstairs in his room,” Mr. Stone said, his voice deeper than Nolan expected. “We shouldn’t be gone too late––just dinner and some networking.”
“We left our cell numbers on the fridge,” Mrs. Stone added quickly. “Lucas already had dinner, so it should be an easy night.”
They exchanged a few more instructions before heading out the door, leaving Nolan alone in the quiet house. He climbed the staircase to check on Lucas and found the little boy sitting cross-legged on the floor of his bedroom, playing with a set of toy dinosaurs.
“Hey, Lucas,” Nolan said with a warm smile. “I’m Nolan. It’s just you and me tonight, buddy.”
Lucas looked up shyly but gave a small wave. “Hi.”
“Cool dinos you got there,” Nolan said, sitting down on the floor. “Which one’s your favorite?”
“The T-Rex,” Lucas said, holding up the toy. “He’s the king.”
Nolan spent the next hour playing with Lucas, who quickly warmed up to him. The boy was sweet and curious, and Nolan found himself genuinely enjoying the time. After a while, he helped Lucas into his pajamas, read him a bedtime story, and tucked him into bed.
“Goodnight, Lucas,” Nolan said, turning off the light. “I’ll be just downstairs if you need me.”
“Goodnight,” Lucas murmured, already half-asleep.
Nolan headed back downstairs to the living room. He grabbed his phone and scrolled through social media, vaguely amused by Trent’s series of posts about his “epic” Friday night of pizza and gaming. Typical. Just as Nolan was about to open a YouTube video, a faint noise caught his attention. It sounded like paper rustling. He looked around the room but saw nothing out of place. Curious, he stood and followed the sound, which seemed to be coming from the dining room. On the dining table, partially hidden under a stack of mail, Nolan spotted something that didn’t look quite right––a crumpled piece of paper, torn from a notebook. He picked it up and smoothed it out, his eyes scanning the words hastily scrawled across the page in jagged handwriting.
“We have your son. If you ever want to see him again, leave $250,000 in cash at the old train station on Pelham Ave. by midnight tomorrow. Do not contact the police, or he will disappear.”
Nolan’s stomach dropped. His heart began to pound as he reread the note, his mind racing. This had to be some kind of sick joke. But the more he stared at the letter, the more he realized it wasn’t. The way it was written––the desperation, the threat––it felt chillingly real. He thought of Lucas upstairs, peacefully asleep, oblivious to the danger implied by the note. He couldn’t leave him alone, but he also couldn’t ignore this. Nolan pulled out his phone and dialed 911.
“This is 911. What’s your emergency?” a calm, professional voice answered.
“My name is Nolan Suart,” he said, his voice shaking. “I’m babysitting a little boy, and I just found a ransom note at the house. I think he might have been kidnapped.”
The police arrived within minutes. Nolan let them into the house, his hands trembling as he explained what he had found. The officers examined the note and questioned Nolan thoroughly, but it was clear he had no involvement other than discovering the letter. One officer, Detective Reeves, pulled Nolan aside.
“Listen carefully, Nolan,” Reeves said. “We believe you’re right. This boy, Lucas, may have been kidnapped. But we need to confirm his identity before we take further action. Are his parents reachable?”
“They left their phone numbers on the fridge,” Nolan said.
The officers called the numbers, but both went straight to voicemail. Whatever event the Stones were attending, they either couldn’t or didn’t want to be interrupted. While the officers continued their investigation, Detective Reeves ran Lucas’s description through missing child reports. Less than ten minutes later, his face turned grim.
“Nolan,” Reeves said quietly. “Lucas matches the description of a boy reported missing three months ago in Ohio. His real name is Timmy Burkit.”
Nolan felt like the floor had been ripped out from under him. He stared at the detective, struggling to process what this meant. The Stones weren’t Lucas’s parents—they were his kidnappers.
“What do we do?” Nolan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“We’ll take it from here,” Reeves assured him. “Our priority is keeping the boy safe.”
The officers moved quickly. They informed child protective services, secured the house, and prepared to take Lucas into custody for his safety. When the boy was gently woken and told he was going on a special trip with the nice police officers, he seemed confused but didn’t resist. Nolan watched as they carried Lucas out to a waiting patrol car. The boy looked back at him, his small face full of questions.
“It’s okay, buddy,” Nolan said softly, forcing a smile. “You’re safe now.”
It wasn’t until nearly two hours later that the Stones returned, their evening clearly having gone as planned—until they saw the squad cars parked in front of their house. The look of confusion and fear on their faces as they stepped out of their car told Nolan everything he needed to know.
“What’s going on?” Mrs. Stone demanded as officers approached them.
“You’re under arrest for the kidnapping of Timmy Burkit,” Detective Reeves said coldly. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
“No! This is a mistake!” Mrs. Stone cried as her husband went pale.
But the evidence was damning. Not only was there the ransom note, but further investigation revealed fake IDs and documents the couple had used to pose as Lucas’s parents. The truth was undeniable. Nolan watched as the couple was handcuffed and placed into the back of a squad car. He felt a strange mix of satisfaction and sadness. He couldn’t imagine the trauma Timmy––Lucas––had gone through, but at least he was safe now.
The story made headlines the next day: “Babysitter Boy Uncovers Ransom Plot, Saves Kidnapped Boy.”
Overnight, Nolan became something of a local hero. His friends quickly changed their tune about his babysitting gigs.
“Dude, I can’t believe you actually saved a kid,” Conner said, clearly impressed. “That’s, like, straight out of a movie.”
“You’re a legend, man,” Trent added. “Forget college—people are gonna be begging you to babysit now.”
Nolan laughed, but he knew his friends meant well. For him, the experience was about more than just recognition. It was a reminder of why he worked so hard in the first place: to make a difference, even in small ways. As for Timmy, he was reunited with his real parents, who flew in from Ohio the morning after the rescue. The reunion was emotional and heartwarming, and though Nolan didn’t want to intrude, Timmy’s parents insisted on thanking him personally.
“You saved our son,” Mrs. Burkit said, tears streaming down her face. “We can never repay you for what you’ve done.”
Nolan simply smiled. “I was just in the right place at the right time.” But deep down, he knew it was more than that. Babysitting wasn’t just a job or a way to save for college––it was a chance to care for others, even when no one else was watching. And that, Nolan realized, was something worth being proud of.
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