At 2 AM one night, Tamisha’s phone shattered the silence. She picked up, heart racing—expecting her daughter’s voice. Instead, Heaven was whispering through tears: “Mom, I Need You.”

But that call never happened. It’s the nightmare that haunts Tamisha every single day.

Twenty-year-old Heaven McGee was inseparable from her mom. They talked multiple times daily—videos, texts, voice memos, cooking TikToks she posted religiously. Heaven was Tamisha’s only child, her best friend.

January 17, 2025: Heaven leaves their Oakland home in a white jacket and brown pants. “I’ll call you soon, Mom.” She walks out the door like any other day.

That night? Tamisha’s phone stays eerily silent.

She calls once. Twice. Five times. Rings… no answer. Texts: “Baby, where are you?” Read receipts suddenly off.

January 18: Still nothing. Heaven’s TikTok—full of her daily cooking videos—goes completely dark. For a girl who never missed a post, this screams wrong.

January 19: Panic sets in. Tamisha calls friends: “Have you seen her?” No one has.

January 20: A witness spots Heaven 70 miles away in Stockton—a bustling commercial strip near the highway. Police rush there… but she’s already vanished.

That’s the last confirmed sighting.

Her phone pings one final cell tower that night. Then the signal dies completely—as if smashed, powered off forever, or taken out of reach.

Tamisha files the missing person report on January 26. Detectives dig into phone records. What they uncover is so alarming, they contact the FBI immediately.

Five months later, the FBI announces a $10,000 reward. They flood the public with Heaven’s photo: 5’0″, 140 lbs, black hair, brown eyes, distinctive tattoos—butterfly designs on her chest, “Aaron Pryor” rose on her collarbone, more ink on her arms. Markings that should make her stand out.

Yet over 400 days later (as of early 2026), zero sightings. Zero calls. No body. No trace.

Tamisha has walked Oakland’s notorious International Boulevard herself—handing out flyers, begging strangers: “Have you seen my baby?” That street is infamous for young women disappearing into shadows, often linked to trafficking.

Heaven’s bedroom remains frozen in time: bed made, clothes waiting, as if she’ll walk back in any second.

But here’s the detail authorities won’t shout from the rooftops: Phone data shows her device pinged three more locations that fateful night after Stockton. One was less than two miles from her own home.

Heaven never came home. Never knocked on her mother’s door.

The FBI believes she’s a victim of human trafficking—a brutal reality preying on the vulnerable. Oakland PD and feds are still actively investigating. Leads have gone cold, but hope hasn’t.

This is every mother’s worst fear: Your child calls out in the dark… and you can’t reach her.

If you’ve seen Heaven Desiree McGee (also known as “Milli”), or know anything—no matter how small—please call the FBI at 1-800-CALL-FBI or Oakland PD.

Share this. Someone out there knows. Someone can bring her home.

Click below for the full timeline, her mother’s heartbreaking words, the FBI poster, and why this case screams human trafficking…

Heaven Desiree McGee, a 20-year-old Oakland resident known to friends and family as “Milli,” disappeared under circumstances that have alarmed investigators and mobilized federal authorities. Last seen on January 20, 2025, in Stockton, California, McGee is believed by the FBI to be a victim of human trafficking. More than a year later, as of early 2026, no definitive leads have surfaced despite extensive searches, a $10,000 reward, and widespread publicity. The case highlights the vulnerabilities faced by young women in certain Bay Area communities and the challenges in combating sex trafficking networks.

Heaven was born on March 4, 2004, and grew up in Oakland, where she maintained a close bond with her mother, Tamisha. Described by family as outgoing, creative, and deeply connected to her loved ones, Heaven communicated with Tamisha multiple times each day through calls, videos, texts, and voice messages. She frequently posted cooking videos on TikTok, showcasing her passion for food and daily life. Family members emphasized that her sudden silence was entirely out of character—she was reliable, communicative, and had no history of prolonged absences.

On January 17, 2025, Heaven left the family home in Oakland wearing a white jacket and brown pants. She told her mother she would call soon, a routine promise that carried no hint of danger. That evening, however, Tamisha noticed an unusual quiet. Repeated calls went unanswered, and texts showed read receipts disabled. By January 18, Heaven’s social media activity ceased entirely, raising immediate red flags for those who knew her online habits.

Tamisha reached out to Heaven’s friends on January 19, but no one had seen or heard from her. The following day, January 20, a witness reported spotting Heaven in a commercial area near a highway in Stockton—approximately 70 miles southeast of Oakland. Authorities responded quickly but found no trace upon arrival. This sighting remains the last confirmed visual confirmation of her whereabouts.

Cell phone records obtained by investigators revealed additional pings from Heaven’s device that night, including one location less than two miles from her Oakland home. The signal then terminated abruptly, suggesting the phone was either destroyed, powered off permanently, or moved to an area without coverage. Tamisha formally reported her daughter missing to the Oakland Police Department on January 26, prompting a review of records that led detectives to involve the FBI early in the investigation.

By June 2025, the FBI had classified the disappearance as a likely human trafficking case. At a joint news conference with Oakland police, FBI Special Agent in Charge Sanjay Virmani stated that evidence indicated Heaven had been trafficked, explaining her presence in Stockton—a known transit point in regional trafficking networks. The agency released an official poster detailing her description: 5’0″ tall, 140 pounds, Black female with black hair and brown eyes. Distinctive tattoos include at least four butterflies on her chest/sternum, “Aaron Pryor” above a red rose below her left collarbone, unknown words above both collarbones, possible Chinese characters on her left forearm, and “Darius III” on her right forearm. These markings, along with her physical traits, were highlighted as key identifiers.

The FBI announced a reward of up to $10,000 for information leading to her location. Tips can be submitted anonymously via the toll-free line at 1-800-CALL-FBI (1-800-225-5324) or through Oakland PD at (510) 238-3641 (case number 25-004032). McGee has documented ties to Oakland, Stockton, and San Jose, areas where trafficking operations have been documented in the past.

Tamisha and extended family members, including aunt Alicia Hughes-Hill, have conducted their own searches. On the one-year anniversary in January 2026, volunteers and relatives walked International Boulevard in Oakland—an area notorious for street-level prostitution and suspected trafficking activity—distributing flyers and speaking with residents. Hughes-Hill described Heaven as a “fighter,” expressing belief that she may be held against her will. Tamisha, often too emotional to speak publicly, has continued pleading for help, emphasizing her daughter’s loving nature and the void left in their lives.

Investigators have explored various angles, including voluntary departure, foul play unrelated to trafficking, and connections to known individuals or networks. However, the FBI’s assessment centers on trafficking due to the rapid movement from Oakland to Stockton, the sudden cessation of communication, and patterns observed in similar cases. No arrests have been made, and all leads pursued to date have gone cold.

The case has drawn media attention from outlets like ABC7, CBS San Francisco, KTVU, and others, with coverage focusing on the family’s anguish and the broader issue of missing Black women in trafficking scenarios. Community groups and social media campaigns have amplified Heaven’s image, urging vigilance.

As time passes, Heaven would now be 21 or 22 years old. Her bedroom remains untouched, a poignant reminder of normal life interrupted. For Tamisha, every unanswered call and silent night revives the pain of that imagined 2 a.m. whisper—”Mom, I Need You”—a plea that echoes in the absence of resolution.

Authorities stress that even small details could break the case open. The public is encouraged to report any sightings or information, no matter how minor. Until Heaven is located, the search continues in the shadows of the Bay Area’s streets and highways.