It's been almost 2 months since Jack and

Lily Sullivan vanished without a trace.

There are no confirmed leads, no solid

evidence, no bodies, and no credible

witnesses. Just an unsettling silence

and a rising tide of rumors. Their

mother, Mallayia Brooks Murray, is now

believed to be on the run, eluding both

child protective services and the Royal

Canadian Mounted Police and possibly

taking all three of her children with

her, Jack, Lily, and Baby Meadow. Some

speculate she disappeared into the

Milbrook Reserve, while others claim

Jack and Lily were spotted across the

border in New York. Just yesterday,

Daniel Martell, their stepfather, posted

a photo of Meadow, alive and seemingly

safe. But what does this all mean? Did

Malaya intentionally disappear with the

children? Was it a desperate escape or

something more sinister?

The loudest question that echoes

remains. Where are Jack and Lily? Now,

if you're following this story and feel

the weight of these unanswered

questions, please don't stay silent.

Subscribe, leave a comment, and help

keep the pressure on. The longer the

silence persists, the harder it will be

to uncover the truth.

A sudden clue in Platsburg.

A surprising sighting far from home.

Could this be the key to Lily and Jack's

whereabouts?

A shocking new detail has emerged in the

heartbreaking case of Lilian Jack

Sullivan's disappearance. A startling

witness account from Platsburg, New

York. This quiet town located just 90

minutes south of the Canadian border and

the saint regis Mohawk reservation has

become central to the mystery. According

to Darren Gettis, a relative of the

children's mother, Malaya Brooks Murray,

a local hairdresser in Platsburg, claims

to have seen both children in her salon

on May 26th.

This date is crucial because the

children were officially reported

missing on May the 2nd, meaning there

would have been nearly 3 and 1/2 weeks

for someone to transport them from Nova

Scotia to upstate New York. That's

plenty of time for a crossber abduction

or smuggling operation. The timing of

this sighting aligns disturbingly well

with earlier theories suggesting that

Malaya didn't simply lose the children,

but rather orchestrated their removal

from the home. The witness reportedly

said they recognized the kids, implying

that the children's faces were already

familiar, likely due to media coverage

of the case. Darren, who shared this

information during an interview on a

YouTube channel, referred to this

sighting as a possible breakthrough.

However, he didn't reveal the

hairdresser's name, nor did he clarify

whether he spoke to the person directly

or received the information secondhand.

He simply stated that he had confirmed

it independently, though without

verifiable documentation. This claim

remains impossible to authenticate.

Despite the potentially game-changing

nature of the witness account, there's

been no public confirmation or denial

from the RCMP regarding any follow-up

with US authorities or attempts to

verify the sighting.

If this information was in fact shared

with the Canadian police, their silence

could indicate either a quiet ongoing

investigation

or a decision to dismiss the account

altogether. In either case, the lack of

transparency adds another layer of

frustration for those following the case

closely. For people like Darren, who

believes the children are alive and

deliberately hidden, the Platsburg

sighting represents a sliver of hope.

For others, it raises red flags. Was

this sighting real or just a product of

wishful thinking fueled by desperation?

The implications, if true, are enormous.

If Jack and Lily were seen alive in the

US nearly a month after their

disappearance, it would mean that

someone actively transported them across

provincial and national borders. It

would suggest the existence of a

coordinated plan and possibly a network

of individuals who aided in their

movement. Adding to the intrigue is a

detail shared by Daniel Martell, the

children's stepfather.

According to Daniel, Malaya only asked

for the kid's birth certificates, school

pictures, and two stuffed animals before

leaving the house. He reportedly said

that's all she wanted.

Everything else she owned, clothes,

documents, personal items, remained at

the home. To Daniel, it seemed clear she

was planning to run, and she wanted to

take the children with her. If true, her

preparation fits the profile of someone

intending to start a new life elsewhere,

perhaps across the border, beyond the

reach of Canadian Child Protective

Services, who were reportedly watching

her closely. Still, serious doubts

remain.

The anonymity of the hairdresser, the

lack of third party verification, and

the absence of action from law

enforcement have made it difficult to

assess the validity of the New York

sighting. For now, it exists in a gray

area, hauntingly plausible, but

frustratingly unproven.

The fact that the children were seen in

New York may also reveal a lot about

Malaya and the children's journey. If

the road to New York is followed, the

notable places would be the indigenous

reserves.

The theory that Jack and Lily Sullivan

were taken to indigenous reserves after

their disappearance hinges on a complex

and controversial web of speculation,

geography, and alleged witness

testimony. These places offer a distinct

legal gray area where Canadian federal

and provincial authorities face limited

jurisdiction without specific warrants.

Darren references two main locations

tied to this idea. The Milbrook Reserve

in Nova Scotia and the St. Regis Mohawk

Reservation, which straddles Ontario,

Quebec, and upstate New York. The

Milbrook Reserve became particularly

notable when Darren claimed that a

secret police operation took place there

in the early hours of the morning,

precisely at 4:24 a.m. He suggests that

the RCMP conducted a pre-dawn raid,

possibly in an attempt to catch someone

off guard while they were sleeping. The

timing of the operation struck him as

suspicious and intentional, raising

questions about whether law enforcement

suspected that children or individuals

involved in the disappearance were being

sheltered within the reserve.

Indigenous reserves in Canada fall under

a unique legal structure. The RCMP

cannot freely enter or search these

lands without judicial authorization or

cooperation from tribal governance.

This creates what some refer to as a

jurisdictional vacuum where enforcement

becomes more complex and often delayed.

For Darren, this gap in oversight makes

reserves an ideal location for someone

looking to hide children from

authorities.

He believes that Milbrook being close to

the children's home and under limited

public scrutiny was a potential early

stop in what he considers a coordinated

movement of the kids out of province and

possibly out of the country.

Supporting this theory, Darren claims

that shortly after the children

vanished, a group of young women visited

Malaya, one of whom he refers to as the

psychic. According to his account, this

woman made a bold and eerie statement in

front of multiple witnesses, including

law enforcement officers. She said the

kids were being tucked into nice, warm

beds in New Brunswick. When Janie

McKenzie, the children's grandmother,

challenged her, asking what she knew

about it, the woman responded that she

would be visiting them in a couple of

days.

Janie, disturbed by the comment,

immediately kicked everyone out of the

house. For Darren, this moment wasn't

just strange. It was a confirmation that

these women were part of a premeditated

plan.

New Brunswick, while not directly tied

to an indigenous reserve in this

account, is still relevant. The province

contains several First Nations

communities such as Elsip Pogto and Tobi

and its mention by the psychic suggested

at the very least a movement away from

Nova Scotia into a region where

jurisdiction might again be muddled or

enforcement might take longer to

organize.

combined with Darren's suspicions about

Malaya's state of mind, her desperation,

pressure from child protective services,

and apparent withdrawal from both Daniel

and public involvement in the search, it

fuels the notion that she may have

sought refuge in such areas

intentionally.

But Darren doesn't stop at New

Brunswick. He also brings attention to

the saint regis mohawk reservation a far

more geographically strategic location.

This crossber territory lies at the

intersection of Ontario, Quebec, and New

York State and is historically known for

loosely monitored crossings.

Darren claims it's ironclad that the

children were transported through this

reserve, suggesting it as a deliberate

choice for those trying to avoid

government detection.

The RCMP under Canadian law would face

significant barriers attempting to

retrieve children hidden in that

jurisdiction without extensive legal

processes or cooperation from US

agencies. The idea becomes even more

tangible when paired with the

information mentioned above that a

hairdresser in Platsburg reportedly saw

both children in her salon in Platsburg,

New York. The sighting location is just

90 minutes from the St. Regis

Reservation.

If the children had been moved into the

US through that route, it would explain

how they could have ended up in

Platsburg undetected.

Yet, significant holes remain. There is

no CCTV footage, no security camera

confirmation, and no photo evidence from

the salon. a glaring omission

considering the weight this testimony

could carry. Moreover, Darren's account

of the witness relies on his own

verification process. Without a name or

third party confirmation, the sighting,

though intriguing, fails to rise to the

level of hard evidence. Still, in the

context of the broader theory,

particularly when tied to indigenous

territories and their jurisdictional

limitations, it continues to hold

symbolic weight for those convinced the

children were hidden rather than lost.

Additional circumstantial elements

appear to support this theory. Another

detail that Darren points to is a pair

of bootprints found near the driveway

and along the pipeline trail.

One of these prints was located in a

muddy area that Janie had filled the

night before and right at the spot where

the family's dog reportedly lost the

children's scent. This detail to Darren

suggests the children were led to that

point, possibly to a waiting vehicle and

then taken from there. He adds that a

blanket found later in the woods was

likely a setup. He claims it had

previously been discarded and may have

been planted to suggest the children

were lost in the forest rather than

removed by human hands.

The behavior of Malaya after the

disappearance further clouds the

picture. She has largely remained

silent, avoiding public pleas for help

or participation in organized searches.

When asked about the more extreme

theories involving indigenous reserves

or networks of women who may have helped

move the children, she offered no

denial, just a curt dismissal. I can't

even listen to that. Such a reaction

doesn't sit well with Darren or others

who believe a mother with nothing to

hide would loudly and visibly advocate

for the return of her children. Despite

these many threads, no public records

confirm that the RCMP has formally

investigated the Milbrook or Saint.

Regious reserves in connection with Jack

and Lily's disappearance.

Darren claims he submitted documentation

and gave statements to several agencies,

including the RCMP,

Skeleton Police, and Major Crimes Unit.

Yet, there is no sign these leads were

pursued or that warrants were issued.

Whether that's due to a lack of

credibility, lack of resources, or the

jurisdictional hurdles involved in

entering indigenous land remains

unclear.

In the end, the theory that the children

were moved through one or more

indigenous reserves to evade law

enforcement is both disturbing and

difficult to disprove. It sits at the

crossroads of plausible geography, legal

loopholes, and human desperation.

The RCMP's silence on the matter only

adds to the mystique. And for families

still holding out hope, it leaves room

that Jack and Lily may still be alive,

just far, far away, waiting for someone

to uncover the path they were taken on.

The silent letter,

confirmed by police, but never released.

A note that could unravel everything.

One of the most unsettling revelations

in the investigation into the

disappearance of Lilian Jack Sullivan is

the existence of a note, an undisclosed

message confirmed by the RCMP, but never

publicly released. The very fact that

law enforcement has acknowledged its

presence while keeping its contents

sealed has sparked rampant speculation.

Some believe it's a letter of goodbye.

Others suggest it may have outlined a

plan to move the children. Either way,

the note appears to be a significant

piece of physical evidence, possibly the

most important in the case so far. The

timing of the note's discovery remains

unclear. Was it left before Malaya

disappeared or after? Was it found in

the family home or handed over

anonymously?

None of those questions have been

answered publicly.

But what is clear is that its existence

suggests premeditation.

A written message, if authentic, implies

Malaya may have had time and intent to

prepare for what happened next. This

wasn't necessarily panic. It might have

been planned.

To understand why someone might leave

such a message, we need to look deeper

into Malaya's state of mind. According

to family insider Darren Gettis, Malaya

had a history of emotional instability.

He referenced long-term struggles with

PTSD, postpartum depression, and

anxiety, issues that were present long

before her children went missing.

These weren't new symptoms triggered by

the crisis. They were part of her

baseline.

If Malaya believed her children were in

danger of being taken by Child

Protective Services, CPS, then fleeing

with them might not have seemed like a

crime. It might have felt like survival.

This theory is further complicated by

the silence surrounding her family.

Multiple sources have noted how Malaya's

relatives, especially her mother, Cindy,

have remained tight-lipped throughout

the ordeal. They have not participated

in search efforts, made public please,

or even commented to media. Cindy, in

particular, has been described as

someone who shuts things down fast,

especially when law enforcement or

reporters get involved. That kind of

total containment doesn't happen by

accident. It suggests either control,

fear, or guilt. The possibility that

Lily and Jack were handed off to

someone, as suggested by Darren, opens

the door to another cultural and

geographic layer. Mallayia reportedly

fled to a Migmark First Nations

community, an area known for its deep

mistrust of the Canadian government and

its child welfare system. Historical

events like the 60s scoop, where

thousands of indigenous children were

removed from their families and placed

with white foster families, have left

scars that still shape decisions today.

In some communities, hiding children is

not criminal. It's protective, a

cultural defense mechanism against what

they view as systemic injustice. If Lily

and Jack are indeed being kept safe

within such a community, it would

explain why RCMP has been unusually

quiet despite intense pressure from the

public.

They have issued no Amber Alert, made no

visible arrests, and offered minimal

updates. This isn't incompetence.

It might be strategy. If they already

know who has the children or suspect

where they are, they may be holding

back, hoping to prevent a panic move

that could endanger the kids.

Or they may be trying to build a case so

legally airtight that it can't be torn

apart in court.

Still, the silence is deafening.

Even those who once defended Malaya have

begun to question her.

Belinda Gray, the children's biological

grandmother, once described Malaya as a

good mother. But after visiting the

house post disappearance and seeing its

chaotic state, her view changed

completely.

That kind of emotional reversal signals

something deeper. Not just heartbreak,

but realization.

Even those closest to the situation are

beginning to accept that what happened

may not have been an accident. In the

center of all this stands that

mysterious note, a single piece of paper

that could change everything. What it

says, how it was written, and who it was

meant for remain unknown.

But in a case riddled with silence, it

speaks louder than words. Whether it's a

confession, a cry for help, or a trail

marker for investigators to follow, it

represents something Malaya hasn't

offered publicly, a direct message. If

this note turns out to contain

instructions, it might lead to the

children. If it contains emotion, it may

give us insight into her state of mind.

And if it names names, it could turn

this into a criminal conspiracy far

larger than anyone imagined. Until the

RCMP releases it or uses it in court,

we're left only with its shadow. But

make no mistake, the note is real, the

silence around it is strategic, and

whatever it says may hold the key to

finding Lily and Jack Sullivan. Do you

have any further questions about the

potential contents of the note or the

implications of its existence?

Meadow, the child left behind. She was

her mother's whole world. So why was she

the only one not taken?

Amidst the devastating headlines

surrounding Lily and Jack Sullivan's

disappearance, a small, quiet, and

easily overlooked moment stood out for

its emotional weight and potential legal

significance.

Daniel Martell, the children's

stepfather, was granted a supervised

visit with his biological daughter,

Meadow.

Meadow is the youngest child of Daniel

Martell and Malaya Brooks Murray, just

16 months old, when her older siblings

went missing. Meadow wasn't directly

involved in the disappearance. However,

the fallout of the incident swept over

her life like a storm she couldn't

possibly understand. Following the

report that Lily and Jack had vanished

from their rural home in Lansdown

Station, Nova Scotia, Meadow was removed

from the home by CPS authorities.

Concerned for the child's safety, amid

mounting uncertainties and accusations,

they chose to separate her from both

parents. As the investigation ramped up,

Daniel in the early weeks of the case

was clear about his situation. He told

reporters and investigators, "As of now,

I can't be around Meadow with the kids

going missing. Children's Protective

Services wants to keep a tight leash on

everything."

He added with visible grief and

frustration that he had lost custody of

Meadow and hadn't seen her since the day

of the disappearance.

At that point, it was unclear whether

Daniel was considered a suspect, a

person of interest, or merely a grieving

parent entangled in the procedural

fallout of a crisis. What unfolded in

the weeks that followed was a deepening

chasm between Daniel and the woman he

had once shared a home with, Malaya

Brooks Murray. Not only had Malaya left

the family home with Meadow in tow, but

CPS reportedly barred any communication

between the two, Malaya moved to stay

with relatives in another part of the

province, and Daniel remained at the

epicenter of a mystery that was gripping

the country. Meanwhile, CPS maintained

legal custody over Meadow, and Daniel

was denied even a supervised visit. When

he tried to see her at the skeleton CPS

office, he found himself increasingly

isolated both emotionally and legally.

But something changed in late June.

During a live broadcast, Darwood,

believed by many to be Darren Gettis, a

vocal relative on Malaya's side, spoke

candidly about the latest developments

in the case. Buried within his chaotic,

emotionally raw account came a quiet

revelation.

Daniel did have visitation with Meadow

today. He said it was beautiful.

That one sentence, simple as it was,

carried with it an enormous shift. It

confirmed that Daniel had been allowed

to see his daughter again for the first

time in nearly 2 months.

The visit, by all indications, was

supervised, likely arranged, and

monitored by CPS.

Darwood didn't elaborate on where it

took place or who else was present, but

his description was unfiltered and

emotional. He wasn't just reporting a

scheduled event. He was testifying to

its impact. Why does this matter? In

family law and child protection

contexts, supervised visits are never

granted casually. CPS operates on strict

risk assessments. If Daniel had been

deemed a danger to Meadow, he would not

have been allowed within sight of her,

let alone permitted to spend time with

her under official supervision.

The fact that the visit happened at all

suggests that at minimum, CPS no longer

viewed Daniel as an immediate threat. In

fact, it suggests that they may be

reassessing his standing in the broader

case. This is especially notable given

the way CPS had previously handled the

family. Shortly after the disappearance,

the agency implemented several

aggressive measures. They removed Meadow

from the home, prohibited Daniel from

seeing her, required Malaya to leave the

property with the child, and reportedly

placed her in a controlled living

arrangement with family elsewhere.

At the same time, Daniel found himself

shut out, not only from Meadow, but also

from Malaya, from public support, and

from his own community, some of whom had

begun to treat him as a suspect by

default. When viewed in contrast with

Malaya's current position, Daniel's

supervised visit becomes even more

meaningful. While Daniel has appeared

publicly, answered questions, and

cooperated with law enforcement, going

so far as to volunteer for a polygraph,

Malaya has largely remained silent. She

has refused to make public statements,

declined interviews, and reportedly

severed communication with Daniel.

At least one person close to the

investigation described her as

withdrawing completely from any

cooperative role. According to Darwood,

even when Malaya was confronted with

plausible accusations or theories about

the children's whereabouts, she would

only say, "I can't even listen to that."

Daniel, meanwhile, has endured threats,

eviction, and emotional isolation, yet

continued to make himself available.

He's spoken with investigators at

multiple levels, from local RCMP

officers to major crimes detectives.

He's handed over his phone, router, and

any device they requested. At one point,

he even made it clear that he would

submit to drug testing or further

questioning if needed.

His transparency, even in the face of

public scrutiny and personal collapse,

has become a defining characteristic of

his behavior during the investigation,

which brings us back to Meadow. A visit

like this doesn't resolve the trauma or

erase the suspicion swirling around the

family, but it does serve as a signal,

one that perhaps Daniel is, in the eyes

of those closest to the case, regaining

some credibility.

It also suggests that CPS might be

quietly shifting its stance from

precautionary distance to measured

reintegration.

To be clear, there is no indication that

Daniel is seeking full custody of Meadow

at this stage. The legal and emotional

terrain remains far too complex for

that. But this visit may mark the first

formal step in what could become a

longer road to reunification.

It may also provide an emotional

lifeline for Daniel himself, proof that

he is not completely severed from the

child he still considers his only

remaining family. Moreover, this moment

adds pressure to the other side of the

equation. While Daniel is slowly being

permitted to re-engage with Meadow under

official eyes, Malaya's continued

absence and silence grow more

conspicuous. The contrast becomes

sharper. One parent attempting to

reassemble the pieces of a shattered

life, the other retreating into secrecy

with no public acknowledgement of either

sorrow or responsibility.

The implications are clear. If Daniel

continues to demonstrate emotional

stability, cooperation with authorities,

and a lack of involvement in the

disappearance,

his path toward more regular access to

Meadow, and potentially even partial

custody could become legally viable.

CPS doesn't operate on public sentiment.

They work on documentation, behavioral

patterns, and risk analysis. A

successful supervised visit is not a

final verdict, but it is evidence of

progress. That progress also speaks to

Daniel's credibility. In cases like

this, where the lines between victim,

suspect, and bystander often blur,

access to one's child is not just a

familial issue. It's a statement of

trust. If CPS allows Daniel to hold

Meadow again, they are by extension

saying, "We no longer believe you're a

threat to her safety." And in the court

of public opinion, where Daniel has been

tried and condemned in the absence of

hard evidence, such a message carries

weight. So what happens next? No one

knows. The investigation remains open.

Jack and Lily are still missing. But now

a new line has been drawn in the sand.

For the first time since May 2nd, Daniel

Martell is no longer just a grieving man

being kept at arms length. He's a father

with one small fragile connection to

what remains of his family. That visit

with Meadow is not the end of the story,

but it may very well be the beginning of

Daniel's next chapter. And in a case

that has offered so little hope, that

small moment, a father holding his

daughter again, is perhaps the only

light worth noticing right now. It's

clear that Meadow's presence represents

one of the most baffling contradictions

in the disappearance.

until now. While Malaya Brooks Murray,

the children's mother, is suspected of

planning an escape that potentially led

her two older children across provincial

borders and even into the United States.

Meadow remained behind, eventually

appearing publicly with Daniel Martell,

her father. That detail alone calls the

entire theory into question or at the

very least reveals deeper emotional

fractures and strategic desperation

behind Malaya's actions.

From the earliest days of the

investigation, multiple sources,

including Daniel Martell and family

member Darren Gettis, known as Darwood,

have emphasized Malaya's intense

attachment to Meadow.

She loved Meadow deeply. That little

girl was her whole life. Daniel echoed

the sentiment, recounting that Malaya

often blocked him from seeing Meadow and

told CPS and others, "I'm protecting her

from CPS."

Meadow wasn't just her youngest child.

She was her purpose, her anchor. And if

that's true, it raises a question too

large to ignore. If Malaya truly

believed she was losing control, if she

feared CPS would take Meadow away, then

why did she leave her behind?

Even with the potential road map to New

York, Meadow is conspicuously absent. No

one has reported seeing her with Malaya

or anywhere near the routes allegedly

used.

And that absence in itself becomes

suspicious. If Malaya was truly fleeing

with her children to avoid CPS or any

legal consequences, logic suggests that

Meadow, her youngest, her most

cherished, would be the first child

she'd take with her.

Instead, Meadow remained in Nova Scotia,

placed in the custody of CPS, and

eventually allowed supervised visits

with Daniel. The emotional contradiction

is overwhelming.

Further deepening the mystery is a

detail shared by Daniel shortly after

the children disappeared. Mallayia

requested only a few specific items from

the home. She only asked for the kids'

birth certificates, school picks, and

two stuffed animals. That's all.

Everything Malaya owns is still here.

Daniel said those stuffed animals

weren't meadows. They belong to Lily and

Jack. Her choice of items seems

intentional, purposeful. She wasn't

preparing to take her youngest. She was

preparing to move with her two oldest,

which makes her decision to leave Meadow

behind even more difficult to

comprehend. Unless perhaps she had no

choice. Back to the time when CPS issued

a no contact order between Malaya and

Daniel and refused Daniel's request to

visit Meadow at their skeleton office.

The message was clear. Parental rights

were suspended, communication was

restricted, and both parents were under

scrutiny. It's conceivable then that

Malaya realized any attempt to flee with

Meadow would trigger immediate criminal

charges and possibly prevent her from

seeing her daughter ever again.

If that's the case, then what follows is

deeply unsettling. Malaya may have

decided to cut her losses, so to speak,

choosing to keep at least two of her

children with her, even if it meant

leaving Meadow behind temporarily.

Darren, in his statements, floated the

theory that Jack and Lily were taken

first, hidden away, or moved through

indigenous territory where law

enforcement requires specialized

warrants to search. In his words, Malaya

may have accepted being apart from

Meadow because CPS was watching her

closely, but she found a way to move

Jack and Lily before anyone could stop

her. There's also the emotional and

legal weight of Malaya's choices. If she

did indeed organize a hidden transfer of

her children, every move had to be

calculated. Every misstep could cost her

all three of them. In that light, the

decision not to flee with Meadow becomes

more strategic than emotional. She may

have believed she could reunite with

Meadow later once the situation cooled

once CPS lost interest or once she had

fully disappeared. But that

miscalculation left Meadow in the hands

of the system and eventually back in the

orbit of her father Daniel, a man Malaya

once fought to keep away. The irony is

sharp. While Malaya is rumored to be in

hiding, possibly across the border, it

is Daniel, once accused and cast aside,

who now gets to hold Meadow. For a man

who had lost so much, even a moment of

contact with his youngest child was

redemptive. But for Malaya, wherever she

is, it must be devastating.

This contradiction remains one of the

most jarring unanswered questions in the

case.

Meadow's presence, her safety, her

ongoing contact with Daniel. These are

threads of light in an otherwise dark

story, but they also spotlight the

decisions Malaya made, the risks she

took, and the people she left behind. If

Meadow was truly the center of Malaya's

world, why is she not with her now?

Until that question is answered, the

story of Meadow will remain one of the

most powerful and painful keys to

understanding what really happened to

Lily and Jack.

Do you have any further questions about

Meadow's situation or anything else

regarding the investigation into Lilian

Jack's disappearance?

The most likely story when history

repeats itself.

Beyond facts and timelines lies a

generational trauma that may have shaped

everything. The term 60 scoop was coined

by Patrick Johnston in a 1983 report

where a social worker described how

indigenous babies were routinely scooped

from their mothers at birth without

notice, explanation, or often legal

procedures.

These children were taken under the

assumption that their communities were

unfit to raise them. citing poverty,

health concerns, and trauma stemming

from residential schools.

But instead of supporting families and

communities with housing, mental health

care, and education, the state offered

only one solution:

removal.

Many of these children grew up detached

from their heritage, culture, and

identity. Most were never told of their

origins until they were adults. The

emotional toll was devastating. Many

experienced depression, addiction,

identity crisis, and long-term trauma. A

1980 study found that over 78% of

indigenous children adopted into

non-indigenous families experience some

form of psychological or physical abuse.

And over 70% of transracial adoptions

ultimately failed, leading to children

being shuffled from one home to another.

These were not isolated stories. These

were the roots of generational trauma.

Now, decades later, the consequences

continue. What was once the 60 scoop has

evolved into what many call the

millennium scoop. Indigenous children

are still being apprehended at

disproportionate rates.

In 2016, indigenous children made up

just 7.7% of Canada's child population,

but accounted for over 52% of all

children in foster care. In Nova Scotia,

the discrepancy is just as stark.

Indigenous children are 4.1% of the

youth population, but represent nearly

30% of children in care. This ongoing

pattern reflects the same systemic

failures. underfunded indigenous

communities, lack of mental health

resources, and persistent racial biases

within social services. Mallayia, the

mother of Lily and Jack Sullivan, is a

member of the Cipekc Nikkatic First

Nation, a migma community in Nova

Scotia. Her story cannot be separated

from this historical legacy. She is a

modern indigenous mother living under

the shadow of past and present state

intervention.

For many indigenous mothers, especially

those who have experienced trauma or

poverty, the threat of losing their

children to the state feels imminent and

constant. The legacy of the 60 scoop

taught entire generations of indigenous

women that love was not enough to keep

their children. The Millennium Scoop

confirmed that they were still at risk

even today. For some, the only answer is

to flee. This context helps explain the

choices that may have unfolded in the

Sullivan case. Malaya's mental health

struggles combined with her historical

awareness and cultural memory could have

driven her to desperate measures. If she

believed that CPS was preparing to

remove Lily and Jack, regardless of

whether it was true, she may have turned

to her family, to her community, and

perhaps even to long-standing networks

of protection within Migmak circles to

keep them safe. What must be understood

is this. To many indigenous parents,

hiding their children isn't a crime.

It's an act of resistance. It's a

learned behavior passed down over

generations, scarred by government

betrayal. For them, the state has never

been a protector. It has been a taker.

When Malaya disappeared in June, along

with her youngest daughter, Meadow, it

wasn't just a mother running away. It

may have been a mother reenacting the

trauma of her ancestors, convinced that

the system would not show her mercy. If

she left behind a note, as some sources

suggest, it could have been more than a

message. It may have been a declaration

of fear, a whisper from the past.

Understanding the Sullivan case means

understanding the scars of the 60 scoop.

Without that context, it's easy to label

Malaya as irrational or criminal. But

when viewed through the lens of history,

her actions, however misguided, reflect

a deeper truth. That trauma, when

unhealed, doesn't fade. It multiplies.

It spreads. And sometimes it takes the

shape of silence, disappearance, and a

desperate mother's belief that she's

doing the only thing she can to protect

her children. Before Lily and Jack

Sullivan were reported missing on the

morning of May the 2nd, 2025, a quieter

storm had already begun to brew inside

their home. The signs were scattered but

real, and when pieced together, they

paint a portrait not just of a family in

distress, but of a mother teetering

between trauma and desperation. Let's

start with Daniel. Daniel's not the

biological father of Lily and Jack. He

is however the father of Meadow the

youngest child in the home. Daniel lived

with Malaya and all three children in a

small cluttered rental house in Picto

County, Nova Scotia. The home, by most

accounts, was far from ideal. After the

children's disappearance, it was

described as messy, unsanitary, and

unsafe for small children. Some even

questioned whether it had ever been a

safe place at all. His employment

history remains vague. Some reports

claimed Daniel only worked 1 hour a day.

There were also murmurss about drug use

in his past, though no criminal record

has ever surfaced.

In fact, when accusations began to

swirl, Daniel voluntarily submitted to a

drug test and passed. That alone doesn't

clear a person, but it speaks to a

willingness to cooperate and perhaps a

need to prove something. But Daniel

wasn't the only one under scrutiny. In

the months leading up to the

disappearance, Child Protective

Services, CPS, had opened a file on both

parents. The details of the case remain

sealed, but those close to the situation

believe it stemmed from concerns about

mental health and home safety. It's

likely someone saw something, maybe

inside the house, maybe in Malaya's

demeanor, and made a report. And once

CPS opened a case, the clock started

ticking for Malaya. This wasn't just a

bureaucratic inquiry. It was

existential.

She had reason to be afraid. Her

emotional health had long been in

decline, beginning with her past

relationship with Cody Sullivan, the

biological father of Lily and Jack. Cody

was allegedly manipulative, controlling,

and abusive.

By the time Malaya left him, she was

carrying years of psychological damage.

She never truly recovered. After giving

birth to Meadow, the emotional toll only

deepened. She suffered from postpartum

depression. Her anxiety increased, and

the PTSD she had carried from Cody's

abuse morphed into something darker, an

overwhelming fear that her children

would be taken from her. And that fear

wasn't unfounded. Not in her world. As a

member of the Cipekc Necatik First

Nation, Malaya carried the cultural

memory of the 60 scoop. In her mind, CPS

was not a neutral authority. It was a

threat, a taker, a continuation of state

violence passed down through

generations.

According to Daniel, she was convinced

it was only a matter of time before they

came for her kids. Whether that threat

was real or not, she believed it with

every fiber of her being. She didn't

just panic. She began to prepare. She

gathered specific items. The children's

birth certificates, a few school photos,

and two of their favorite stuffed

animals. She didn't take money. She

didn't pack clothes. It wasn't the

behavior of someone running from a

moment. It was the behavior of someone

moving toward a decision. But she didn't

act alone. In the days before the

disappearance, Malaya might have

contacted her maternal family,

particularly her mother, Cindy. The

Brook side of the family has been

described as intensely private,

distrusting of law enforcement, and

highly protective of their own. Cindy,

in particular, is said to shut things

down fast when it comes to anything

involving police or press. Many believe

this side of the family helped

facilitate a plan, possibly to hide the

children, possibly to help Malaya vanish

altogether. May the 1st had long

remained a blurry date on the timeline,

mentioned, speculated, but never

confirmed. For weeks, theories swirled

online and in private circles suggesting

that Jack and Lily Sullivan may have

gone missing well before May, the day

they were officially reported missing.

The uncertainty allowed room for darker

speculation that perhaps something had

happened to them earlier and someone

perhaps Daniel was trying to cover it

up. No one had verified that all five

members of the household. Daniel

Martell, Malia Brooks, Meadow, Jack, and

Lily were seen together that day until

Daniel stepped forward.

In a significant development, Daniel

publicly disclosed that on May the 1st,

2025, the entire family was recorded by

a surveillance camera at Highland Square

Mall in the Glasgow area of Nova Scotia.

The footage, according to him, clearly

shows all five of them together. They

were out shopping. They looked like any

other family on a normal day, he said.

The camera got all of us at the mall.

This seemingly small detail changed

everything.

The video, now in the custody of the

RCMP,

became a critical piece of evidence in

the investigation.

It offered a timestamp, a location, and

most importantly, visual confirmation

that both Jack and Lily were alive and

present as of May the 1st. No longer was

it a matter of relying on phone records,

text messages, or hearsay. There they

were, Lily, Jack, Meadow, Malaya, and

Daniel moving through them all together.

Daniel emphasized that RCMP had seized

and reviewed the footage, confirming its

authenticity.

According to his statement, nothing in

the video raised red flags. No one

appeared distressed. The children didn't

seem frightened. Malaya and Daniel

weren't arguing or distant. The footage

captured a moment of normaly. a family

together without visible cracks. In his

own defense, Daniel used the footage to

dispel earlier accusations against him.

It contradicted theories that he had

harmed or hidden the children days

before filing the missing person's

report. It also helped push back against

online suspicion that he had been

untruthful about when the children were

last seen. Daniel insisted that I didn't

hide my kids. I didn't hurt anyone.

People saw us. We were together May 1st.

From an investigative standpoint, the

footage served as a temporary alibi for

Daniel, at least through the afternoon

of May 1st. What happened later that

evening is still under question, but up

to that point, there was nothing in the

footage to suggest foul play or discord.

The existence of the mall footage also

restructured the timeline of the case.

If Jack and Lily were seen alive on May

1st and reported missing the morning of

May the 2nd, then something must have

happened in the narrow window between

late evening and early morning. That

window, now critical, became the focus

of renewed scrutiny. What happened after

they left the mall? Did they go home

together? Did something change that

night? Until night, the house was quiet,

cloaked in the kind of rural stillness

only a remote stretch of Nova Scotia

could offer. No one knew that Janie,

Daniel Martell's mother, was staying in

the trailer parked on the property that

night. She wasn't supposed to be there,

at least not according to what Malaya,

the children's mother, believed. As far

as Malaya knew, Janie had gone off with

her boyfriend, maybe for a short trip or

an overnight stay. That misunderstanding

would turn out to be crucial. Inside the

trailer, Janie was asleep next to her

dog. Then came the sound that woke her,

a sharp, high-pitched scream, the kind

Lily was known for when she got overly

excited. Darren, a family relative,

later described it as that screaming

thing Lily would do, almost playful but

piercing.

The moment Lily screamed, Janie's dog

began barking uncontrollably, startled

and reactive. The trailer shook with

sudden noise. It wasn't something you

could ignore. Then Janie heard movement.

She recognized the sound of the back

door of the trailer opening. voices,

footsteps. She could hear Malaya

ushering the children out. Not just Lily

and Jack, but also the baby Meadow in

her arms. Janie heard the rustling of

them crossing the yard, heading in the

direction of the gate that opened to the

roadside.

That's when instinct kicked in. She

began pulling on her boots and quickly

tied the dog so it wouldn't bolt. By the

time Janie made it out the door, she

walked up fast toward where she'd heard

the commotion.

But something had changed. Only Malaya

was still standing there on the side of

the road holding Meadow. Lily and Jack

were gone.

There was no sound, no sign of the

children. No one else was in sight. No

vehicle, no second person, no screaming

anymore. Just the silence of early

morning and a mother who looked caught

off guard. Janie confronted her.

According to later accounts, Malaya

panicked and gave a quick explanation.

They're in the woods. But to Janie and

later to Darren, that answer didn't make

sense. She had just heard the kids, just

heard them outside, the barking, the

voices, the door opening, and now

nothing. There were no headlights, no

engine noises, no vehicle tracks. If

someone had taken the kids, it had

happened fast and without being seen. If

Malaya had led them somewhere and handed

them off, it had taken less than a few

minutes. But Janie knew one thing for

sure. She heard her. She heard Malaya

bring those kids outside. She heard Lily

scream. She heard the dog react. And she

saw Malaya standing alone, holding only

the baby when the children had just been

beside her moments earlier. That series

of sounds and absences, screams,

barking, footsteps, then silence, formed

the core of Janie's unofficial

testimony. She would later report

everything to the RCMP, though she

refused to speak with the media after

feeling disrespected by early interview

requests.

But she told Darren. She told him in

detail because she was convinced of what

she had experienced. And what she heard

that morning left little doubt in her

mind.

Those kids didn't wander off. They were

taken.

It was around 8:00 a.m. on May 2nd,

2025,

when Malaya claimed she couldn't find

her two children, Lily and Jack

Sullivan. She said they were nowhere in

or around the house.

That moment marked the official start of

what would become one of the most

troubling missing child cases in Nova

Scotia. But what happened next raised

more questions than answers.

Despite discovering her kids were

missing at 8:00 a.m. Malaya didn't call

the police until 10:00 a.m. A full 2

hours passed. For many, especially

experienced investigators, that delay

felt like a red flag.

Why wait 2 hours to report two small

children just four and 6 years old

missing? Witnesses and relatives later

shared observations about Malaya's

demeanor that day. She didn't appear

panicked. There were no frantic knocks

on neighbors doors or desperate shouts

in the woods. Instead, she was described

as withdrawn, quiet, and vague. Some

family members noted that her story

changed more than once, and she seemed

unsure about details, something that

later caused serious issues in the

initial search effort. Searchers

immediately questioned the theory that

the children had wandered off into the

forest. Locals said there's no way Lily,

who was mature enough to care for her

little brother, would willingly let them

get lost in that kind of wilderness,

especially not without being heard. Even

more confusing, the RCMP did not issue

an Amber Alert right away. Many in the

public demanded to know why. Was it a

mistake, or did police already suspect

this wasn't a typical abduction? Some

theorize that authorities may have had

internal information pointing to a

family-based disappearance rather than

an external kidnapping.

Once the report was made, search efforts

intensified. The RCMP set up roadblocks,

launched drones, deployed K-9 units, and

combed the nearby forests, rivers, and

properties. Volunteers, especially from

the indigenous community, joined in

large numbers. But notably, not a single

member of Malaya's extended family

showed up to help. Their absence didn't

go unnoticed. Daniel quickly emerged as

the primary suspect.

As the stepfather and the adult male

present in the household, his proximity

made him a logical starting point for

investigators. But it wasn't just that.

He avoided the media didn't make

emotional public please and came across

to some as too composed. His silence

created doubt. Was he hiding something?

Shortly after the disappearance, CPS

stripped Daniel of temporary custody of

his daughter, Meadow.

This happened despite him volunteering

for and passing both a polygraph exam

and a drug test. To many, this suggested

that CPS and RCMP were still deeply

suspicious of him, perhaps believing he

posed a threat to children or knew more

than he was saying. Meanwhile, Malaya

and Meadow were quietly escorted out of

the house by CPS and RCMP. Both parents

were under scrutiny and officials wanted

to conduct evaluations separately. It

was a drastic move, but it showed that

authorities weren't ruling anyone out.

Initially, the public viewed Malaya as

the frightened mother of two missing

children.

But that perception began to shift. CPS

started questioning her fitness as a

parent, especially considering her

history of postpartum depression, PTSD

from past abusive relationships, and her

refusal to speak publicly about the

case. Sources also revealed she may have

violated the 24/7 supervision order

related to Meadow, further complicating

her legal standing. As the days passed,

media coverage exploded. Public opinion

split sharply. One side believed Daniel

had to be involved, especially after

losing custody. Others pointed to

Malaya's inconsistencies,

silence, and total withdrawal from

public life. Why wasn't she helping

search? Why wasn't she speaking to

reporters? Where was her family? The

RCMP found themselves in a precarious

position. They had no solid evidence

pointing to either parent, but they also

couldn't rule either one out. The longer

the case remained unsolved, the more

intense the public pressure became.

Rumors spread online. Accusations flew.

The community wanted justice, but there

was no clear villain. By the end of that

first week, both Daniel and Malaya stood

under a dark cloud. Neither was formally

charged, but both had lost public trust.

The children were still missing. No one

had answers, and the story that was just

beginning was already spiraling into

something far more complex than anyone

imagined. On June 17th and 18th,

something shifted. These dates were

marked as absent in case files, and for

good reason. They were the last

confirmed days anyone could trace

Malaya's location. Up until then, she

had been staying at her mother's house

under the watchful eye of CPS following

a period of mounting suspicion and

emotional strain. But on those two

dates, she disappeared. No warning, no

explanation,

just gone.

There were whispers, of course, talk

that she'd been planning something, that

she wasn't acting alone. Whether through

family assistance or community

protection, the consensus quickly

formed. Malaya didn't just walk away.

She left with purpose. She vanished with

intent. And whatever that intent was, it

almost certainly included removing

herself from the reach of both law

enforcement and social services.

Reports indicate that Malaya was no

longer at her mother's home during this

time. Despite attempts from Daniel and

others to reach out, communication was

cut. Phone calls were ignored or

dropped. There were no sightings, no

updates, just silence, the kind of

silence that weighs heavy. It was in

that silence that speculation turned to

fear, that she might never resurface,

that the children might already be

beyond reach, and that any remaining

chances of resolution were slipping

away.

But amid the uncertainty, one child

didn't vanish.

Meadow, unlike her siblings, she

resurfaced.

Eventually, Daniel was seen with her

again, indicating that the little girl

was still safe and possibly under CPS

supervision.

That one fact carries enormous weight.

It suggests that after disappearing,

Malaya either lost custody of Meadow or

was prevented from taking her in the

first place. This changes things because

if Meadow was no longer with Malaya,

that means Malaya left alone or only

with Lily and Jack. And if she truly

intended to take all three children with

her, then the fact that she failed to do

so reveals either a limitation or a

change in plan. Was Meadow left behind

because she was already in CPS custody,

or did Malaya choose not to risk taking

her youngest, knowing the consequences

would escalate? There's also the

troubling possibility that she tried and

failed to take Meadow, blocked by state

systems that were finally beginning to

close in. And this leads to the most

disturbing question of all. If Malaya

couldn't take Meadow, then who did she

take? And why was Lily old enough to

follow directions? Was Jack too young to

resist? Were they handed over,

protected, hidden by someone else in the

family? or were they lost somewhere

along the path of escape? The

possibilities branch out like a map, but

none of them offer comfort. As we reach

the closing chapter of what is known so

far, what we're left with is a deeply

fractured narrative, a story stitched

together by fear, silence, and trauma.

What began as the anxious protection of

a mother haunted by generations of

stolen children has now become a

full-blown criminal investigation with

no suspects officially named and no

children recovered.

It's a case built on the fog of

uncertainty where every theory competes

with the next and each clue seems to

contradict the last. Theories vary.

Some believe the children were taken as

part of a protective cultural act to

shield them from CPS and the legacy of

state removal.

Others argue that something darker

happened, something more final, that the

fear turned inward, that the trauma

became too much, that whatever Malaya

was trying to prevent, she ended up

causing. And then there are the

unanswered questions that refuse to let

go. Where is Malaya now? Who helped her

disappear? Was she acting alone or did a

larger network protect her? Are Lily and

Jack alive? And if so, where? Who is

taking care of them? Who knows the truth

and chooses not to speak? The silence

around the case is not just chilling.

It's strategic. Law enforcement has

withheld crucial information. The

family, especially on Malaya's side, has

remained eerily quiet. And those closest

to the scene, like Daniel and Belinda,

are left to wonder if every passing day

is another nail in the coffin of truth.

Still, one phrase hangs in the air,

repeated by observers and loved ones

alike. If this started as a mother's

fear of losing her children, did that

fear create an even greater loss?

Because at the heart of it all is not

just a disappearance. It's a legacy. A

legacy of trauma, of history repeating,

of systems that fail and families that

fracture, and of two children, Lily and

Jack, whose lives became the center of

something far bigger than themselves. A

mystery wrapped in grief, buried in

silence, and still waiting for answers.

As the days pass and answers remain

elusive, one truth becomes undeniable.

We still don't know exactly what

happened to Lily and Jack Sullivan. But

what we do know, what we cannot ignore

is the profound intergenerational impact

of systemic issues on indigenous

families. And as the days turn into

weeks and the weeks into months, the

silence surrounding Jack and Lily grows

heavier. No arrests,

no answers, just a family torn apart and

a mother whose intentions remain buried

beneath fear, trauma, or something else

entirely.

But one thing is certain. These children

didn't just vanish into thin air.

Someone knows something. And until the

truth is brought to light, we owe it to

Jack, to Lily, and to every child failed

by the system to keep asking, to keep

watching, and to never ever forget.

[Music]

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