HALIFAX, Nova Scotia – The baffling disappearance of six-year-old Lilly Sullivan and four-year-old Jack Sullivan from their rural Nova Scotia home continues to grip the nation, with fresh scrutiny now turning to a deleted messaging app on their mother’s phone. Court documents unsealed this week reveal that Malehya Brooks-Murray, the children’s mother, used the TextPlus app to make frantic calls to relatives in the hours after reporting her kids missing on May 2, 2025 – but she later deleted the entire application, sparking questions about what digital breadcrumbs might have been erased along with it.

Brooks-Murray, 24, told RCMP investigators she relied on TextPlus to contact her mother and grandmother because it allowed free calls over Wi-Fi, a necessity in the remote Lansdowne Station area of Pictou County where cell service can be spotty. According to the newly released Information to Obtain (ITO) warrants, police subpoenaed TextPlus Inc. for her records from May 1 and 2, receiving data on calls and messages from three redacted phone numbers. However, much of the content remains under seal, fueling speculation that the app’s logs could hold crucial clues – or even direct evidence – about the siblings’ fate.

“It’s not just about the calls she made after they were gone,” said a source close to the investigation, speaking on condition of anonymity due to the ongoing probe. “The app was active right up until the deletion. What else was on there? Contacts, locations, timestamps – that could paint a timeline we don’t have yet.”

The case, which has drawn comparisons to high-profile child vanishings like the 2010 disappearance of the McCann children in Portugal, remains classified as a missing persons investigation by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP). But whispers of foul play have grown louder amid witness accounts of suspicious vehicle activity near the family’s trailer the night before the children vanished.

Neighbors in the tight-knit backwoods community came forward with statements describing a car engine revving and tires crunching on gravel around 2 a.m. on May 1 – hours after Brooks-Murray and her then-partner, Daniel Martell, claim the kids were tucked into bed at 9 p.m. One witness, a retired logger who lives a quarter-mile away, told police he peered out his window and saw headlights flickering through the trees, as if someone was turning around in a dead-end path near the Sullivan home. “It wasn’t normal,” the man recounted in his affidavit. “Folks around here don’t drive in the dark unless they’re up to no good.”

Martell, 28, who described himself as the children’s stepfather, has maintained that he and Brooks-Murray slept through the night undisturbed. The couple, along with the couple’s infant daughter Meadow, awoke to an eerily quiet mobile home at around 8 a.m. Brooks-Murray dialed 911 at 10 a.m., tearfully reporting that Lilly and Jack must have slipped out the back sliding door, crossed the fenced yard, and wandered into the dense woods bordering their property. “They loved playing outside,” she told dispatchers. “But it’s been hours – where are my babies?”

Initial searches by RCMP ground teams, K-9 units, and helicopters scoured the rugged terrain of Lansdowne Station, a hamlet of about 200 souls nestled in Nova Scotia’s Pictou County. The area, known for its thick spruce forests and swollen rivers like the East River, which runs perilously close to the trailer park, posed immediate challenges. Drones equipped with thermal imaging captured nothing but wildlife – deer, foxes, and the occasional black bear. By May 3, the operation expanded to include divers probing the river’s murky depths, but no trace of the children surfaced.

As weeks turned to months, the lack of physical evidence – no shoes, no toys, no signs of struggle – deepened the mystery. Lilly, described by family as a bubbly aspiring ballerina with curly brown hair and a penchant for Disney princesses, and her brother Jack, a towheaded tyke obsessed with toy trucks, seemed too young and familiar with the woods to simply vanish. “They knew that yard like their own hands,” Martell’s mother, Susan, told local media in June. “Something’s off.”

Enter the TextPlus angle, which has become a focal point in the digital forensics push. TextPlus, a free app offering virtual phone numbers for texting and calling over data or Wi-Fi, is a staple for low-income users dodging carrier fees. But its appeal to privacy-conscious individuals – including those evading traditional billing records – has made it a red flag in missing persons cases. Experts note that while the app doesn’t auto-backup chats to the cloud like iMessage, deleted data isn’t always gone forever. “If the phone wasn’t wiped clean or overwritten, forensic tools can pull fragments from unallocated space,” explained cybersecurity consultant Elena Vasquez, who has consulted on similar RCMP cases. “Timestamps on those deleted calls could sync with the neighbor’s vehicle sighting – or contradict the parents’ timeline.”

Brooks-Murray’s deletion of the app, which she explained to police as unnecessary post-crisis, occurred sometime in the days after May 2. The ITOs detail how investigators seized her iPhone and Martell’s Android device, running Cellebrite software to extract logs. Redacted portions hint at “anomalous activity” in the app’s metadata, including geolocation pings that placed her phone at the trailer throughout the night of May 1. Police also requested banking records and social media histories, uncovering a YouTube interview under the pseudonym “Derwood O’Grady” – believed to be a relative – speculating wildly about the case, which Brooks-Murray later disavowed.

Public fascination has exploded online, with Reddit threads and TikTok sleuths dissecting every detail under hashtags like #FindLillyAndJack. A dedicated Facebook group, “Justice for Lilly & Jack Sullivan,” boasts over 50,000 members, many decrying what they see as RCMP foot-dragging. “Why seal the TextPlus records? What are they hiding?” one viral post demanded. The force’s handling of the 2020 Portapique mass shooting – Canada’s deadliest – still haunts its reputation, with critics accusing officers of incompetence in rural crises.

Volunteers haven’t given up. On November 16, the Ontario-based non-profit Please Bring Me Home led a grueling all-day search, fording icy rivers and hacking through underbrush. Divers recovered clothing scraps and a child’s boot, but RCMP dismissed them as unrelated “litter” from past floods. “We’re not stopping,” vowed organizer Nick Oldrieve. “These kids deserve every boot on the ground before winter buries the trails.”

Broader implications ripple through Nova Scotia’s child welfare debate. Advocates point to the case as a wake-up call on rural isolation and digital oversight. “Apps like TextPlus are lifelines for some, but blind spots for safety,” said Dr. Miriam Hale, a child psychologist at Dalhousie University. “Parents in remote areas need better resources – monitored Wi-Fi, community check-ins – to prevent tragedies.” Provincial officials have pledged $2 million more for missing children’s searches, including advanced drone tech and AI-driven data analysis.

Brooks-Murray, now living with relatives in New Glasgow, has kept a low profile since the documents dropped. Reached by phone last week, she declined comment, her voice cracking: “Just bring my babies home.” Martell, who split from her amid the scrutiny, echoed the plea in a rare statement: “Theories don’t find kids. Facts do.”

As snow dusts the Pictou woods – where temperatures have dipped to freezing – the RCMP vows renewed vigor. “Every lead, every byte of data, is pursued,” said spokesperson Cpl. Lisa Cpl. Lisa Ruggiero. The TextPlus subpoena results, though partially redacted, are under review by the Major Crime Unit. Whether they unlock the door to answers or deepen the shadows remains unseen.

For now, the Sullivan siblings’ bedroom stands frozen in time: Lilly’s tutu draped over a chair, Jack’s trucks lined up for an imaginary race. Their absence echoes in a community forever altered, waiting for the app’s ghosts to speak.

Anyone with information is urged to contact the RCMP at 1-902-485-4331 or Crime Stoppers anonymously at 1-800-222-TIPS (8477). A $150,000 reward stands for tips leading to the children’s safe return.