Five blue balloons bobbed gently in the evening breeze against a backdrop of soft, pastel skies, marking a poignant moment outside the Stellarton detachment of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in Nova Scotia. On Wednesday evening, friends, family, and concerned residents came together for a candlelight vigil honoring Jack and Lilly Sullivan, the young siblings who vanished from their home more than five months ago. The gathering, timed to coincide with Jack’s fifth birthday, served as both a celebration of his young life and a collective expression of hope for answers in a case that has gripped the rural community.

The event unfolded with quiet dignity, as attendees released the balloons—symbols of the children’s innocence and the lightness many wish could lift the weight of uncertainty. A growing memorial at the site, adorned with stuffed animals, small toys, and flickering candles, has become a focal point for the community’s ongoing support. Organizers, including local resident Kent Corbett, emphasized the vigil’s role in fostering unity. “This is about letting the family know that Pictou County—and all of Nova Scotia—stands with them,” Corbett said, his voice steady amid the gathering dusk. “We’re not resting until we have clarity and bring Jack and Lilly back.”

The Sullivan siblings, Lilly, 6, and Jack, 5, were last seen on the morning of May 2, 2025, at their family home in Lansdowne Station, a remote, wooded area in Pictou County approximately 140 kilometers northeast of Halifax. The initial 911 call came from their mother, Malehya Brooks-Murray, and stepfather, Daniel Martell, who reported the children had wandered away from the property. What followed was an immediate and expansive response from authorities, but the trail has since grown cold, leaving families and neighbors in a state of prolonged suspense.

Pictou County, a region of rolling hills, dense forests, and tight-knit towns home to about 43,000 people, has felt the ripple effects deeply. The area’s rural character—characterized by vast expanses of woodland and sparse population—has both aided and complicated the search efforts. Early on, volunteers joined RCMP teams in combing through miles of underbrush, streams, and trails near the home. Ground searches, drone surveillance, and even cadaver dogs were deployed in the first weeks, but no definitive leads have emerged. The RCMP’s Northeast Nova Major Crime Unit has classified the case as suspicious, a standard approach for unresolved missing persons reports involving children, and has enlisted over 11 specialized teams to pursue every angle.

At the vigil, emotions ran high as family members shared personal tributes. Belynda Gray, the children’s paternal grandmother, recited a heartfelt poem she penned as a “birthday promise” to Jack. Standing before the crowd, her voice wavered with resolve: “We hold steadfast the pictures of Lilly and Jack, seeking answers to bringing them back. For a grandparent’s promise is etched in the soul, and I’ll search for our grandchildren no matter the toll.” Gray, who has spent countless hours scouring the woods herself, represents the tireless determination of relatives unwilling to let the passage of time dim their efforts.

Haley Ferdinand, the children’s maternal aunt, also addressed the group, wearing a shirt emblazoned with photos of Lilly and Jack beaming on their first day of school. “All the days are the same,” she shared in a subsequent interview. “You wake up and go to sleep with the same thing on your mind. You just want answers, and we have nothing.” Her words echoed the quiet frustration felt by many, as the lack of updates has tested the community’s patience. Yet, Ferdinand stressed the vigil’s uplifting intent: keeping the siblings’ faces and stories in the public eye, where visibility can sometimes unlock new information.

Local leaders joined the chorus of support. Pictou County Warden Robert Parker spoke of the event’s significance, noting that while some might view such gatherings as premature, they underscore the profound care residents hold for the children. “This shows how deeply we all feel this,” Parker said. RCMP Staff Sgt. Curtis MacKinnon, the district commander, reaffirmed the force’s dedication. “I know you care deeply about these children, and so do we,” he told the assembly. “I can assure you that we have not wavered in our commitment to determine what has happened to Lilly and Jack.” MacKinnon highlighted the investigation’s complexity, describing it as a “tremendous amount of careful, deliberate work” involving forensic analysis, witness interviews, and digital reviews.

The stepfather, Daniel Martell, attended the vigil and used the occasion to voice his evolving perspective. Initially, the report suggested the children had simply strayed into the nearby woods—a common enough scenario in such a natural setting. But Martell, speaking to media afterward, expressed doubt about that narrative. “I don’t believe they wandered off anymore,” he said, adding that he plans to continue advocating publicly despite facing scrutiny. Martell has walked back earlier suggestions of external involvement, like reports of a vehicle near the home, which the RCMP recently debunked as unsubstantiated. His presence at the event, shirt bearing the children’s images, was a visible plea for collective action.

As the vigil progressed, participants laid additional items at the memorial: a white lighthouse painted with the siblings’ names, dinky cars reminiscent of Jack’s love for vehicles, and colorful crafts evoking Lilly’s artistic spirit. Two paper lanterns were released into the twilight sky earlier in the summer vigil, but this gathering focused on sustained light—candles meant to “light the way home.” Organizers like Janice Pottie and Brenda MacPhee, who helped coordinate the first event a month after the disappearance, read prayers inviting attendees to contribute their own symbols of hope. About 50 people turned out for that initial June gathering; Wednesday’s crowd swelled to dozens more, a testament to the case’s enduring hold on local hearts.

The investigation’s intricacies have drawn national attention, with media outlets from CBC to The Globe and Mail chronicling the family’s ordeal. A dedicated Facebook page, “Find Lilly and Jack Sullivan,” has amassed thousands of followers, where Brooks-Murray posts updates and pleas. In a recent message, she wrote of her “desperate” wish for their return, coinciding with Jack’s milestone birthday. The Nova Scotia government has sweetened the pot with a reward of up to $150,000 CAD for information leading to resolution, administered through Crime Stoppers. Anonymous tips can be submitted via 1-800-222-TIPS or the P3 Tips app, a channel authorities emphasize as crucial.

Community frustration, while present, manifests more as a call for acceleration than outright discord. Residents like Corbett, who helped relocate the outdoor memorial to a sheltered spot for winter courtesy of local business Amtek Ltd., view the vigils as bridges between public sentiment and official efforts. “We’re all in this together,” he noted. “These events remind everyone that time doesn’t erase the need for answers.” Indeed, the RCMP has urged patience, citing the necessity of methodical progress in a case with few overt clues. Staff Sgt. Rob McCamon, in a May briefing, described it as one requiring “tremendous care,” involving re-interviews and expanded canvassing.

Lilly and Jack’s everyday lives before May 2 paint a picture of ordinary joys amid a blended family dynamic. The siblings attended Salt Springs Elementary, where Lilly, described as outgoing and creative, thrived in art classes, while Jack, the younger bundle of energy, delighted in playtime with toy cars. Family photos show them painting crafts together, their faces alight with sibling camaraderie. Their parents had separated years prior—Brooks-Murray with Martell, and father Cody Sullivan living nearby—but sources indicate a cooperative co-parenting arrangement. This backdrop of normalcy amplifies the shock of their absence, turning a quiet corner of Nova Scotia into a symbol of unresolved longing.

Broader context reveals the challenges of missing persons cases in rural Canada. Statistics from the RCMP indicate that while most reports resolve quickly, those in remote areas can linger due to limited surveillance and witness pools. Pictou County’s terrain, with its labyrinthine trails and seasonal foliage, adds layers of difficulty. Yet, advancements like enhanced GPS tracking and public DNA databases offer glimmers of progress. The Sullivan case has prompted discussions on bolstering child safety protocols in isolated communities, from better fencing to community watch programs.

As night fell on the Stellarton detachment, the candles burned brighter, casting warm glows on faces etched with determination. The vigil concluded not with finality, but with a renewed pledge: to keep searching, sharing, and supporting until Jack and Lilly are found. For now, the blue balloons fade into memory, but the light they represent endures. Authorities continue to seek tips, no matter how small— a sighting, a conversation, a detail long forgotten. In a province known for its resilient spirit, the quest for truth binds strangers into something unbreakable.

In the weeks ahead, family members plan more outreach, including potential media appeals and expanded reward campaigns. Warden Parker envisions county-wide awareness drives, while the RCMP commits to quarterly public briefings. Whatever path unfolds, the Sullivan story remains a clarion call: in the face of the unknown, community endures.

Anyone with information is asked to contact Pictou County District RCMP at 902-485-4333 or Nova Scotia Crime Stoppers anonymously at 1-800-222-8477. The search goes on, fueled by hope and the unyielding belief that answers await.