Why Experts Say This Case Defies All Logic | Lilly and Jack Sullivan
They gave you a clue, and they said no abduction.

That’s a big statement to make at this early in the game. Based on appearances, um, this went in the wrong direction early on, and key momentum and leads were lost when they were out in the fields looking for kids that maybe were never there.

Two children vanish—no screams, no footprints, no witnesses, and then nothing.

Six-year-old Lily Sullivan and her four-year-old brother Jack disappeared from their rural trailer home in Landsdowne Station, Nova Scotia, without a trace. There was no sign of forced entry, no trail into the woods, just two tiny shoes left untouched, and a silence that still hasn’t broken.

Over 30,000 children go missing in Canada every year. Most are found within days, but this case defied every known pattern, paralyzed every strategy, and left seasoned investigators grasping at shadows.

As experts from across the country weighed in, one fact became clear: this was no ordinary disappearance. The case of Lily and Jack Sullivan didn’t just defy the odds—it dismantled the logic we trust to protect children.

This is the mystery that stunned law enforcement, shook the public, and remains one of Canada’s most haunting unsolved disappearances. Why? Experts say this case defies all logic.

Canada, in 2024, had just over 30,000 cases of missing children. The vast majority of those cases involve, um, runaways or involve teens. In fact, about 90% of those cases are resolved within a one-week period. So anytime cases deviate from that, right, I think that is going to draw in the public. And of course, there’s the public’s desire to see it resolved. It taps into a lot of the fears that, uh, you know, for example, parents might hold about the safety of their children.

But, um, it’s really important to remember that of those 30,000 cases, about 0.1% were cases of, like, a stranger or parental abduction.

It’s the first few hours that matter most in any child disappearance. Time is the enemy, and the protocol is clear. You act fast, you act loud, you alert the public, and lock down every possible lead before it fades.

Within minutes, authorities are expected to issue an Amber Alert, canvas neighbors, secure surveillance footage, and deploy cadaver dogs. Because every moment that passes without action is a moment lost forever.

But when Lily and Jack Sullivan disappeared, none of that happened. Instead of sirens and alerts flooding the province, the air remained quiet. Instead of urgent calls to neighbors, there was silence. There was no Amber Alert, no immediate video retrieval from nearby homes, no dog teams combing the woods in those first critical hours.

While most missing child cases in Canada are resolved within seven days, according to clinical forensic psychologist Dr. Sky Stevens, this one was already veering off script within its first six. “But every missing person case, we would approach it from the same process—a methodical collection and review of information, with decisions based on that.”

RCMP officials would later state that they followed a methodical approach, insisting they were assessing information as it came in. But by the time they publicly called for tips, the children had already been missing for over 48 hours.

Press conferences came, but without urgency. The word “abduction” was never officially used. The community waited to hear the usual cues—that there was a threat, that the public should remain vigilant—but those words never came.

Meanwhile, in those first two days, surveillance footage that could have shown who came or went from the trailer park was not yet secured. Neighboring homes had exterior cameras, some facing the road, others pointed toward the Sullivan property. That’s two days after the RCMP was reportedly notified of the children’s disappearance—two days in which crucial frames could have been lost to automatic overwrite systems.

And then came the dogs. Eventually, cadaver dog teams and K9 handlers weren’t brought in until long after the terrain had already been disturbed by search volunteers and ground crews. By the time they arrived, any scent trail that may have existed was likely long gone. Former handlers would later question this delay, calling it highly unusual in a case involving two very young children missing from their home environment.

“I find it hard to believe that a 6 and 4-year-old would just disappear like that. I guarantee you, if I was still working today, that’d be the thing that would be racing around your mind all the time—like, where would they have gone?” said one former investigator. “I think the last thing I read, they searched a square kilometer area, five kilometers. That’s a big area. That’s a big area, and that’s meticulously searched. There’s a reason.”

The first 24 hours are called the golden window. They’re golden because that’s when the evidence is fresh, when memories are sharp, when tracks are still visible. In the case of Lily and Jack Sullivan, that window didn’t just close—it was never fully opened.

The RCMP would defend their actions by describing their process as measured, with Staff Sergeant Curtis McKinnon stating, “We assess and make decisions based on the information we have.” But critics argue that waiting for information in a disappearance involving children this young isn’t just a risk; it’s a mistake. It’s a decision that may have changed the trajectory of the case forever.

“Again, I’m not gonna comment on the details of the investigation, but I will comment when somebody goes missing and we become engaged, as any police officer, not just major crime. We will look at all the details and make considerations on the information we have. Right? When it comes to a missing person, we have to automatically consider, uh, those that are… have different charter implications and things like that. So we will automatically start to consider what evidence is pointing us towards a suspicious nature. Again, I can’t comment more than that, but every missing person case, we would approach it from the same process—a methodical collection and review of information with decisions based on that.”

In the days that followed, hundreds of volunteers combed the forest. Drones took to the sky. Boats searched waterways. But by then, the trail had grown cold, and every step forward felt like it came too late.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. In any standard case, the alarm would have been sounded immediately. The public would have been warned. Surveillance would have been preserved. Dogs would have been deployed within hours, not days. But this wasn’t a standard case. And what should have happened never did.

That’s when experts started to say it out loud. This case didn’t just defy procedure, it defied logic.

“The woods here are pretty nasty. There’s a lot of storm damage, so there’s a lot of deadfall in that. The ticks are really bad. We’ve had people come out and say they could see them crawling around on the ground,” said one expert.

Search teams are relying on scientific models in their pursuit. There are stats and studies that show how far children could possibly travel in areas like this. Search and rescue manager Amy Hanson says rescue workers are focused and re-energized.

“One of the reasons that we did actually suspend was because of the exhaustion and the stress. We were starting to see more injuries. Um, everybody’s rested, refreshed, ready to go. They’re still gonna push themselves to the point where they can’t anymore.”

More than 100 rescue workers are combing through several square kilometers of dense forest, marking off each area searched with a ribbon. “We’re also expanding out into areas that we haven’t really had boots on the ground in, just to get more areas covered off.”

“You can overlook one body, but not two, and not for this long,” said another expert.

In missing persons cases, time is the great eraser. Every gust of wind, every footstep, every hour that passes strips away the evidence that might have once told a story. But even in the harshest terrains, even in the deepest woods, trained cadaver dogs have a job: to find what the eye can’t. That is, if they’re deployed in time.

In the disappearance of Lily and Jack Sullivan, those dogs didn’t arrive early. Whether it was a logistical error or a deliberate tactical choice remains unclear, but what’s undeniable is the damage of delay.

The area was already crawling with volunteers, dozens of boots trampling paths, drones buzzing overhead, scent trails—if they ever existed—fading by the minute. The RCMP would later confirm that the search zone spanned over 5 square kilometers. It was, by all measures, methodical and exhaustive. Trees were marked, waterways cleared, ground teams pushed to physical exhaustion. And yet, nothing. In the face of such emptiness, experts were forced to admit what few wanted to say: this wasn’t normal, this wasn’t typical, and this wasn’t how lost children are usually found.