In the misty, wood-choked wilds of Nova Scotia’s Pictou County, where rural roads twist like forgotten secrets and small-town whispers carry the weight of legend, the unsolved vanishing of siblings Lilly and Jack Sullivan has spiraled into a maelstrom of family feuds, online sleuthing, and explosive accusations. Seven months after the 6-year-old girl and her 4-year-old brother were reported missing from their Lansdowne Station home on May 2, 2025, a bombshell YouTube interview has ignited fresh fury: a man identifying as “Derwood O’Grady” – widely believed to be Darin Geddes, a relative of the children’s mother Malehya Brooks-Murray – claims Brooks-Murray didn’t lose her kids to the encroaching woods, but spirited them away in a midnight vehicle before staging the alarm. And now, Geddes alleges, she’s on the run with her 1-year-old daughter Meadow, leaving a trail of deception that has RCMP scrambling, true-crime forums ablaze, and a grieving nation demanding answers. “She took them and ran,” Geddes intones in the viral clip, his voice a gravelly mix of betrayal and bombast. As search teams pivot from woods to warrants and social media erupts with #FindLillyAndJack, this isn’t just a missing-persons saga – it’s a raw unraveling of trust, kinship, and the dark underbelly of a family’s fractured facade.

The nightmare began on a deceptively ordinary Friday morning in Lansdowne Station, a speck of a community 140 kilometers northeast of Halifax, hemmed by dense forests, steep ravines, and the relentless Atlantic chill. At 10 a.m., Brooks-Murray, 28, placed a frantic 911 call: her children, Lilly (born March 2019) and Jack (born October 2020), had vanished from their Gairloch Road home. She painted a heart-wrenching picture – the kids, kept home from school with coughs, had slipped out an unlocked sliding door while she and stepfather Daniel Martell tended to their infant daughter, Meadow. “They just wandered off,” she told responding officers, her voice cracking over the line as neighbors mobilized. By noon, over 100 volunteers, RCMP ground teams, K-9 units, drones, and helicopters blanketed the 10-acre property – a ramshackle rental ringed by thick brush and treacherous banks leading to the East River. Divers scoured the murky waters; cadaver dogs sniffed the undergrowth. Nothing. No tiny footprints, no discarded toys, no echoes in the endless green.

The initial narrative gripped Canada like a fever: two fair-haired innocents, last seen on May 1 surveillance footage at a New Glasgow Dollarama with their parents, swallowed by the wild. Brooks-Murray, a soft-spoken Mi’kmaq woman with a history of domestic turbulence, became the face of maternal anguish – tearful pleas on CTV, community vigils with teddy bears piling at the gate. Martell, 32, her partner since 2022 and Meadow’s father, echoed the heartbreak: “They’re out there somewhere – we just want them home.” But cracks emerged fast. Court documents unsealed in October revealed witness statements of a vehicle idling near the home around 2 a.m. on May 1 – hours before the report – though RCMP surveillance review found no corroboration. Polygraphs for Brooks-Murray and Martell came back “inconclusive,” per leaks, and questions swirled over the house’s unclean state that morning, contradicting Martell’s claim he’d tidied up late-night. By June, whispers turned to roars: was this a tragic accident, or something sinister?

Enter “Derwood O’Grady,” the shadowy pseudonym that’s turned this tragedy into a tabloid tempest. In a June 20, 2025, episode of the YouTube true-crime channel It’s A Criming Shame – a low-budget affair with 50K subscribers peddling armchair forensics – Geddes, posing as O’Grady, dropped his detonator: Brooks-Murray, he claimed, loaded Lilly and Jack into a car under cover of night, handed them off to unknown contacts (possibly on a Native reserve, per his speculation), and faked the disappearance to evade child services scrutiny. “She took them and ran,” Geddes growled, his face blurred but voice unmistakable – a gravelly timbre matching family photos of the 40-something Geddes, Brooks-Murray’s grandmother’s cousin. He alleged a pattern: prior CPS visits over alleged neglect, Martell’s “shady” temper, and Brooks-Murray’s “desperate” ties to off-grid Mi’kmaq networks. The clip, titled “She Took Them and Ran – DERWOOD Say MALEHYA Is on the Run With Meadow Lilly and Jack Sullivan,” exploded to 2 million views, spawning spin-offs like “BOMBSHELL! Malehya ON THE RUN with Meadow?” Geddes doubled down in Reddit AMAs on r/JackandLilly, a 10K-member forum pulsing with sleuths: “Meadow’s with her now – they’re gone, hidden safe from the system that failed those kids.”

RCMP, tight-lipped but thunderous, confirmed Geddes’ identity in October filings, labeling his claims “unsubstantiated speculation” that “harmed the investigation.” Yet the damage rippled: tips flooded in about Brooks-Murray sightings in Alberta and New Brunswick, with one viral post claiming she’d been spotted at a Fredericton reserve with a toddler matching Meadow’s description. Police pivoted – less woodland sweeps, more border alerts – while Brooks-Murray and Martell, now separated amid the scrutiny, issued a joint statement via lawyer: “These vicious lies from family traitors distract from finding our babies. We’re cooperating fully; the kids wandered – end of story.” Martell, holed up in a Halifax motel, told Global News he’s “haunted” by the what-ifs, while Brooks-Murray vanished from public view, her TextPlus app (used post-disappearance for spotty calls) now a red flag in docs.

The family’s fault lines run deep, fueling the frenzy. Brooks-Murray, raised in Mi’kmaq foster care after her own mother’s struggles, met Lilly and Jack’s biological father – a transient laborer estranged since 2022 – through mutual aid circles. Martell entered as a “stabilizing force,” but affidavits hint at volatility: 2024 neighbor complaints of shouting matches, a March welfare check after Jack’s ER visit for bruises (ruled accidental). Geddes, a Pictou County handyman with a rap sheet for minor thefts, positioned himself as the “avenging uncle,” but sources paint him as estranged – barred from family holidays over old grudges. His O’Grady alias? A nod to true-crime podcasts, where he’s peddled theories for clicks, from Bigfoot to local hauntings. “Derwood’s not family; he’s a fame-chaser,” a cousin told CBC anonymously. Yet his narrative – kids “rescued” to evade “the system” – resonates in Indigenous circles wary of CFS overreach, sparking #JusticeForSullivans debates on TikTok.

As December deepens, the search endures – a $500K reward swells from GoFundMe tears, with billboards dotting Highway 104: “Lilly & Jack: 7 Months Missing – Have You Seen Us?” RCMP’s Major Crime Unit, led by Cpl. Sandy Matharu, vows “no stone unturned,” but whispers of closure loom: an internal note deems the case “non-criminal,” pointing to woods or river. Volunteers dwindle, but online armies grow – r/JackandLilly mods banning Geddes’ acolytes amid doxxing scares. Brooks-Murray’s silence? Deafening. Last sighted in July at a Halifax shelter, she’s a ghost – or, per Geddes, a guardian in hiding with Meadow, Lilly, and Jack tucked safe from scrutiny.

This saga transcends headlines: it’s a microcosm of rural Canada’s hidden heartbreaks – foster failures, Indigenous distrust, the viral venom of armchair justice. Geddes’ claims, true or toxin, have humanized the hunt, turning strangers into stakeholders. For Lilly’s crayon drawings and Jack’s toy trucks, left on the kitchen table, the plea echoes: bring them home. Whether Brooks-Murray ran with love or loss, the Sullivans’ void yawns wide – a wound Nova Scotia can’t close, no matter how many theories take flight. As Derwood’s video loops into infamy, one truth cuts clean: in the fog of accusation, the only crime is the waiting.