"She stepped into a truck and vanished into thin air. No trail. No answers. Just silence."

On May 20, 2015, 25-year-old Madelin Renee Tomlin was last seen in Hope, Arkansas—getting into a tan or gold Chevrolet pickup truck. That ordinary moment became her last known sighting. Since then, nearly a decade has passed. No confirmed sightings. No verified leads. And most heartbreakingly—no word from Madelin.

She was a devoted mother of two. A daughter. A friend. And according to those who knew her best, it was completely unlike her to disappear without a trace. Especially without reaching out to the children she loved deeply.

In this episode, we revisit the streets of Hope. We dig into the details of Madelin’s disappearance, the mystery surrounding that truck, and the haunting silence that followed. We’ll hear from people who knew her, explore theories, and ask the hard questions—why hasn’t her case received the attention it deserves? And who benefits from her being forgotten?

This is more than a missing person story. This is a story about a woman who mattered—a woman who should have been found. This is for Madelin Tomlin.

Because no one simply disappears.
And none of the lost girls should be left behind.

In this special episode of Lost Girls, we step away from a single case to confront a nationwide tragedy: the epidemic of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Relatives — known as MMIWR.

It’s a crisis rooted in history, perpetuated by silence, and fueled by systemic failure.

Across the U.S., Native women go missing or are murdered at rates exponentially higher than other groups. On some reservations, the murder rate is more than ten times the national average. Behind every statistic is a name, a face, a family shattered — and too often, no answers.

Today, we’re not just recounting what’s gone wrong. We’re honoring the fierce advocacy rising from Tribal Nations, survivors, and families who refuse to be ignored. We’ll explore how colonization, broken justice systems, and eroded sovereignty have created a perfect storm of vulnerability — and how grassroots movements, federal legislation, and unwavering voices are pushing back.

This isn’t just a Native issue — it’s a human rights issue. And it demands our collective attention.

Join us as we say their names, share their stories, and call for the justice they so rightly deserve.

Because every girl — every girl — deserves justice.

More than four decades have passed since the brutal murder of Angela Desiree Kelly, and yet—her case remains unsolved. Her story, like too many others, has faded from headlines. But for her family and community, the pain has never disappeared.

On the morning of March 28, 1979, Angela’s body was discovered along the southbound lanes of Red Bluff Road in Pasadena, Texas. Her hands were bound behind her back. She had been strangled. A calculated, cold act of violence. She was just 19 years old.

Angela's death was ruled a homicide by the Harris County Medical Examiner’s Office. But even with interviews, tips, and time, the truth has never fully come to light. No one has been held responsible.

And yet, someone out there knows something.

Angela was not just another name in a cold case file. She was a daughter, a friend—a young woman with her whole life ahead of her. Today, we remember her not for how she was found, but for the justice that has yet to come.

This is her story. And we won’t stop telling it until someone finally does the right thing.

Angela Desiree Kelly deserves justice.
Every girl does.