She Took Them and Ran – DERWOOD Say MALEHYA Is on the Run With Meadow | Lilly and Jack Sullivan
They were just children. Lily, six years old, loved butterflies and coloring books. Jack, only four, followed his big sister everywhere, always asking questions, always laughing. On May 2nd, they vanished. Not from a crowded city or a chaotic school yard, but from the quiet safety of their own home in rural Nova Scotia.

That morning, their stepfather Daniel Martel says he woke up to silence. No footsteps on the stairs. No giggles. The house, usually humming with life, was still. Lily and Jack were gone. Their beds, empty. Their backpacks, untouched.

Just the day before, the children were seen at Highland Square Mall with their mother, Maleahya Brooks Murray, their baby sister Meadow, and Daniel. Surveillance footage captured them—nothing unusual. No signs of distress. A regular family, doing regular things. But by dawn the next day, everything had changed.

Police were called. A full-scale search began. Drones scanned the tree lines, scent dogs swept the woods, tanks and crawlspaces were checked. But the trail ended abruptly—at the edge of the driveway. The dogs lost the scent. No footprints. No drag marks. It was as if the children had stepped off the earth.

Then, days later, the story took a darker turn. Maleahya disappeared too. Not with the two older children, but with Meadow. Under the supervision of Child Protective Services, she vanished, reportedly after a fight with her own mother, Cindy, in Wentworth. Some say she ran. Others believe she was warned.

A man named Derwood O’Grady, a relative connected to both Maleahya and Daniel, stepped into the spotlight. His voice was rough, but resolute. He believed this wasn’t random. He believed the children were taken intentionally, handed off to someone in a waiting car. And he claimed he knew—almost certainly—who was behind the wheel.

According to Derwood, Maleahya had voiced frustrations, hinted at needing a way out. Some in the family, he said, acted on those words. A mistake. A terrible, irreversible mistake.

And now, two children are gone.

Derwood says he baited someone he suspected. Let them overhear a name. Within an hour, Maleahya was gone with Meadow. To him, it was confirmation. She was running.

She was last seen heading toward the Shubenacadie First Nation, possibly seeking protection through legal connections there. Her lawyer, according to some, is the brother of the reserve’s chief. A safe haven—or a final hiding place?

Theories spread quickly. Daniel Martel took a polygraph and passed. Maleahya took one, too—but her results were never released. Some say the questions focused not on where the children were, but whether she caused their deaths. It was a chilling suggestion: that police had already given up hope.

But not everyone has.

Daniel and Derwood both believe Lily and Jack are alive. Not taken by force, but hidden—protected, perhaps, by someone close. Maleahya didn’t just flee, Daniel claims. She took their birth certificates, identification, and the children’s stuffed animals. Symbols of comfort. She was preparing.

Maleahya’s mental health, according to those close, had been fraying. Paranoia. Anxiety. Erratic behavior. And now she’s gone—with a baby in her care—and the nation is watching, fearing what she might do next.

This story isn’t just about a disappearance—it’s about silence. The silence of law enforcement, who’ve said only that there was no evidence of abduction. No ransom, no forced entry. Just two missing kids. And a mother who vanished.

It’s about institutional silence. Child Protective Services had been monitoring the family. How did Maleahya walk away with a child?

And it’s about the silence of those who may know more. Derwood believes the children were handed off. Others suspect legal protections have shielded key players.

And then there’s Belinda Gray, the children’s paternal grandmother. She learned of their disappearance from Facebook. Not the police. Not family. A social media post. And her voice now cuts through the fog: “These children did not wander into the woods.”

She describes a mother with no urgency. No panic. No public pleas. Just vanishing footsteps and growing silence.

Lily and Jack Sullivan. Six and four years old. Still missing. Still unaccounted for. A $150,000 reward now offered by authorities—for information, not closure. Not yet.

Because someone knows.

And if they’re alive—and many still believe they are—time is everything.