🔥SHOCK🔥 Lily and Jack Sullivan are imprisoned in New York.👨👧 Daniel Martell has won Meadow.
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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