Malehya Brooks-Murray issued a public call for information on October 27, 2025, as the search for her children, 6-year-old Lilly and 4-year-old Jack Sullivan, enters its sixth month, with police ruling out abduction based on witness accounts.

Lansdowne Station’s dense forests loomed under a gray October sky on October 27, 2025, as Malehya Brooks-Murray, the mother of missing siblings Lilly and Jack Sullivan, turned to social media in a raw display of ongoing anguish. Nearly six months after the children vanished from their rural Nova Scotia home, Brooks-Murray posted on the “Find Lilly and Jack Sullivan” Facebook page, her words a piercing echo of hope amid despair: “Someone, somewhere, knows something so please bring my babies home.” The emotional appeal, accompanied by family photos of the children’s smiling faces, drew thousands of shares and comments, reigniting national attention on the unresolved case that has gripped Canada since May.

The disappearance unfolded on the morning of May 2, 2025, in the quiet community of Lansdowne Station, Pictou County, a speck on Nova Scotia’s northeastern map where homes nestle amid thick woods and winding roads. Lilly, 6, and Jack, 4, were last seen at their residence on Gairloch Road, a modest property shared with their mother, stepfather Daniel Martell, and a 1-year-old sibling. Brooks-Murray reported them missing around 10 a.m., telling police she believed the children had wandered off from the backyard while she and Martell attended to the baby indoors. The siblings had been kept home from school that week due to Lilly’s cough, missing classes on May 1 and 2, and the prior day off for a teacher professional development session.

Initial response was swift and sweeping. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) mobilized over 160 searchers by May 4, including ground teams, K9 units, drones, and helicopters combing the surrounding 10-square-kilometer area of rugged terrain and waterways. Volunteers from nearby communities joined, distributing flyers and holding vigils under hashtags like #FindLillyAndJack, which trended across Canada. A $150,000 reward was offered for information leading to the children’s safe return, and tips flooded in, from unverified sightings at truck stops to anonymous calls about unfamiliar vehicles on rural routes.

Court documents unsealed in August and October 2025 shed light on the early investigation’s twists. Police obtained surveillance footage from a Dollarama store in New Glasgow, confirming the family—Brooks-Murray, Martell, the baby, Lilly, and Jack—were together on May 1, the day before the report. A second fragment of Lilly’s pink blanket was discovered in household trash, prompting questions about the home’s state that day. Witnesses reported hearing a vehicle near the property around the time of the disappearance, but no visual confirmation emerged. Brooks-Murray explained using a TextPlus app for calls to her mother and grandmother post-report, citing spotty cell service in the rural area.

Abduction theories, fueled by early media speculation and tips about the biological father, Cody Sullivan, gained traction briefly. On May 3, investigators requested toll plaza footage from Cobequid Pass on the Trans-Canada Highway, suspecting a possible flight to New Brunswick. Sullivan, interviewed on May 22, denied involvement, stating he hadn’t seen the children in three years. By late October, however, RCMP dismissed stranger abduction as unlikely, citing insufficient witness evidence and the lack of forced entry or struggle signs at the home. “All possibilities remain under investigation,” RCMP spokesperson Cpl. Charlene Jordan Curl affirmed in an update, emphasizing ongoing polygraph reviews and forensic analysis.

Brooks-Murray’s plea, posted amid falling leaves and encroaching winter, captured the family’s fraying resolve. “As a mother I love my children more than life itself and feel so heartbroken not being able to hold my two children Lilly and Jack, kiss them, breathe in their scent or tuck them in to bed,” she wrote, vowing to “never stop searching.” The post, viewed over 100,000 times, prompted fresh tips and donations to the search fund, now exceeding $200,000. Martell, who separated from Brooks-Murray shortly after the vanishing and blocked her on social media, has cooperated with authorities but maintained a low profile.

The case’s rural setting adds layers of challenge. Lansdowne Station, with its unpaved roads and thick underbrush, complicates ground searches, especially as temperatures dip toward freezing. RCMP has scaled back large-scale operations but maintains a dedicated tip line (1-888-610-3111) and online portal, urging anyone with even vague recollections to come forward. Community efforts persist: the “Find Lilly and Jack Sullivan” page, with 25,000 followers, coordinates volunteer drives, while schools in Pictou County incorporate safety lessons on wandering risks.

Public discourse has evolved from initial abduction fears to broader questions of child welfare in isolated areas. Experts like child safety advocate Sarah Thompson of the Canadian Centre for Child Protection note the case highlights gaps in rural response times, where distances to hospitals or even neighbors can span miles. “These stories remind us vigilance starts at home,” Thompson said in a recent CBC segment. The Sullivans’ grandmother, Cyndy Murray, echoed the sentiment in May: “We’re just hoping and praying for the best—that’s it—for our babies to come home.”

As November looms, Brooks-Murray’s words hang heavy, a beacon in the fog of uncertainty. The RCMP’s Northeast Nova Scotia Major Crime Unit continues door-to-door canvassing and digital forensics on family devices, but leads remain scarce. In a province scarred by past tragedies—like the 2013 Moncton killings or the 2020 Nova Scotia mass shooting—the Sullivan case underscores the quiet endurance required in unresolved searches.

For now, Lilly and Jack’s photos—her with pigtails and a gap-toothed grin, him clutching a toy truck—adorn billboards from Halifax to Toronto. Brooks-Murray ends her pleas with resolve: “I don’t want these moments to be memories, I want my babies home.” In Lansdowne Station’s whispering pines, the hunt presses on, one tip, one memory at a time.