She CAUGHT Them: Grandmother’s Bombshell Blows Open Lilly and Jack Mystery!
Today, we’re dissecting Belinda Gray’s heart-wrenching CBC interview, where her raw honesty catches Maleia and Daniel in a tangle of contradictions.

A searcher’s claim that the kids are in the woods clashes with Gray’s grim suspicions—
and a $150,000 reward goes ignored by the very people who should be shouting it loudest.

The truth is out there, but it’s slipping through the cracks.

Six weeks after six-year-old Lily and four-year-old Jack Sullivan vanished from their Landown Station home, Belinda Gray—their paternal grandmother—steps into the spotlight with a story that shatters the official narrative.

She’s no detective, just a grieving grandmother. But her words expose Maleia’s silence and Daniel’s shifting claims like a blade through fog.

Meanwhile, searcher Amy Hansen clings to hope that the kids are lost in the woods—a theory that crumbles under Gray’s revelations.

And looming over it all? A $150,000 reward that Maleia and Daniel won’t even mention.

Let’s unravel this house of lies, starting with the woman who caught them.

Picture this: May 2nd, 2025. Gray’s in town when she gets a text from her grandson’s mother with a Facebook article—Lily and Jack are missing.

Her heart races. She texts Maleia, who confirms the kids vanished that morning.
But here’s the first red flag: Maleia doesn’t ask if Gray or her son Cody—the kids’ biological father—know anything.
It’s as if she already knows what happened.

Gray’s in panic, in shock, expecting the kids to turn up. But that hope fades fast.

At 3:00 a.m., RCMP cars roll into her driveway, waking her. They question Cody, who hasn’t seen the kids in three years, ensuring they’re not with him. Cody’s upset, feeling accused—but Gray sees it as routine.

What’s not routine? Maleia’s silence on whether anyone else could be involved.

The next morning, Gray and her sister join the search, asking Maleia where the kids usually play. Maleia points vaguely to the little woods by the house.

But when Gray combs the area, she’s stunned.

The terrain is a nightmare: trees everywhere, thorn bushes, deadfall from Storm Fiona.

“You have to climb over trees, crawl under bushes,” she says. “It’s too thick for a six- and four-year-old to wander far.”

Gray’s yelling “Lily!” and “Jackie boy”—her nickname for Jack—but doubts creep in.

She returns to find Maleia eerily calm. Her voice is monotone. Her face, emotionless.

Gray once thought Maleia was the perfect mom—soft-spoken, never raising her voice.
But now? Something’s off.

Then comes the gut punch. Gray steps into Maleia’s home—and freezes.

It’s dilapidated. Dirty. Dangerous. A far cry from the clean, tidy Maleia she once knew.

“It looked more like a camp,” she says, shocked at the chaos.

Was this neglect, a breakdown… or a sign of something darker?

Gray’s heart breaks as she recalls Lily’s brown hair and gapped teeth. Jack’s serious stare.

She believes somebody hurt these kids.

Let’s hear her words—raw and unfiltered—that exposed the truth:

“So, we showed up Saturday morning, me and my sister, and we met up with my daughter.
And we started—well, I asked Maleia.
I said, ‘Maleia, you—you know your kids. Nobody knows their kids like their mom.
Where do your kids normally go to play out in the yard? What direction do they usually like to explore?’
And she said, ‘Well, they always play up in the little woods right on the side.’
I said, ‘Well, okay. We’ll start from that point and we’ll work our way out.’

We had spoken to a search and rescue and we weren’t allowed on the other side because that’s where they were searching at the time.
So we just started combing through the woods up through there.

We were gone for a couple of hours. I’m yelling for Lily and Jack—we always call Jack “Jackie boy.”

And yeah, that went on for a few hours.
But those woods—I started to feel that I can’t see them being in the woods.

There’s trees everywhere. You literally have to climb over trees, climb under bushes.
It is really, really thick.”

Belinda Gray’s voice trembles with pain and conviction.
Her words aren’t just a grandmother’s grief—they’re a dagger to the heart of Maleia’s story.

If the woods are too thick for kids to vanish, what really happened?

And why didn’t Maleia question anyone—not even Cody, who lived nearby?

It’s as if she knew the kids weren’t lost.

This echoes what some call a “hoaxer”—someone who knows too much because they’re hiding the truth.

Gray’s advocacy, her tireless fight, stands in stark contrast to Maleia’s silence.

And that $150,000 reward? Gray’s pushing it. But Maleia and Daniel? Not a word.

But not everyone agrees with Gray.

Amy Hansen, a searcher who joined the effort on May 2nd, still believes Lily and Jack are in those woods.

“Do you think those kids are in the woods?”
— From everything I’ve seen, yes.
“Have you found anything?”
— The only thing that we had was the bootprints of everybody, and we still cannot 100% say that they belong to the children. But that was pretty much the only thing we had.

“Why can’t you find them?”
— They’re small. They’d be hiding. They would have crawled underneath something probably when they got tired. They could have gone further than what we searched. There’s all kinds of scenarios, unfortunately.

Hansen’s team logged 12,000 hours, scouring the dense forest with canines, drones, and grid searches so tight that teams could barely see each other through the bushes.

Storm Fiona left deadfall piled high—places where small kids could hide, crawl under, or collapse from exhaustion.

They found a bootprint, possibly a child’s—but it’s never been confirmed.

Hansen says kids that age often hide, making them hard to spot. Her team even checked wells and a mine shaft with a drone, finding no trace.

Yet Hansen’s hope feels like a fading echo.

Her searches after May 7th weren’t spurred by new tips—just a need to cover more ground.

Some searchers were so broken they couldn’t call Lily and Jack’s names. Others, too exhausted to return.

Hansen’s conviction hinges on that unconfirmed bootprint and the chaos of the woods—
but it crumbles against Gray’s logic.

If the terrain’s so brutal, how could two small kids wander far?