A father vanished with his three children in September 2021.

What a camera footage captured four years later will chill you to your bones.

September 13th, 2021.

The call came into New Zealand police about a vehicle discovered on Kiteir Beach.

But this was no ordinary abandoned car.

The Toyota Hilix sat below the Titeline, waves crashing against its sides, slowly pulling it toward the dark waters of the Tasmin Sea.

Inside, three car seats remained strapped in the back.

The keys lay hidden under the driver’s floor mat.

Tom Phillips and his three children, Jada, Maverick, and Ember, were nowhere to be found.

Kiteair Beach is not a place for the inexperienced.

Black sand stretches for miles beneath towering cliffs, and the surf here is legendary for its violence.

Amateur surfers know better than to test these waters.

Local fishermen speak in hush tones about the undertoe that has claimed lives before.

When residents saw Philillip’s truck being battered by the incoming tide, their hearts sank.

No one in their right mind would leave a vehicle there.

Not unless something terrible had happened.

The children were just 5, 7, and 8 years old.

Within hours, Maricopa transformed from a sleepy settlement of fewer than 100 people into command central for a massive search operation.

This remote corner of New Zealand’s North Island, a place so isolated it had no cell phone service, suddenly buzzed with helicopters, search teams, and fear.

Search and rescue teams combed the coastline on foot.

Inflatable boats cut through the dangerous swells.

When weather permitted, helicopters and drones equipped with thermal imaging swept the rugged terrain, searching for any sign of life.

Fixed-wing aircraft joined the effort.

Their crews scanning the dense bush that stretched for miles inland.

Days passed, then a week.

The searches found nothing.

Tom Phillips was known as an experienced outdoorsman.

He had grown up in these parts, hunting wild pigs with his father through the dense native bush.

He knew every hill, every valley, every hidden path.

If anyone could survive in this wilderness, it was him.

But with three young children, the community held its breath.

Were they lost? Had the ocean swallowed them whole, or was something else at play.

Then came the first hint that this was more than a tragic accident.

Police announced they wanted to know about two motorbikes Philillips once owned.

The question hung in the air like smoke.

Why would they need motorcycles if the family had drowned? 17 days after the truck was found, in the early morning hours, someone spotted a man and children on a motorbike on a rural road.

The sighting was brief, almost ghostly.

Hours later, the door to the Philips family farm swung open.

Tom walked in with Jada, Maverick, and Ember by his side.

They were alive, not a scratch on them.

Police revealed the truth.

The family had been camping just 9 mi from where the truck was abandoned.

Tom claimed he needed space to clear his head, time alone with his children, away from the world.

His family said they had been living in a tent, perfectly fine, enjoying the outdoors.

But the community wasn’t buying it.

The search had cost hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Emergency services had risked their lives searching treacherous terrain and dangerous waters.

And for what, a camping trip? Tom Phillips was charged with wasting police resources.

His court date was set for January 12th, 2022.

He would never make it to court.

December 9th, 2021, 5 days before Christmas.

Tom Phillips and his three children vanished again.

This time, there were no abandoned vehicles, no dramatic beach scenes, no massive search operation.

They simply disappeared into thin air.

Police made a calculated decision.

They did not launch another search.

Perhaps he would return on his own, they reasoned.

Perhaps this was another camping trip, another temporary escape from whatever demons Philillips was fighting.

Philillips had notified his family he was going somewhere, and there were no court restrictions preventing him from being with his children.

But December turned to January.

The court date came and went.

Tom Phillips did not appear.

His lawyer hadn’t heard from him in weeks.

This time, something was different.

An arrest warrant was issued.

What police didn’t tell the public, what they couldn’t tell the public due to court restrictions, was that Tom Phillips didn’t have legal custody of his children.

The kids had been the subject of family court proceedings since 2018.

Their mother, who went by the name Cat, had been fighting to protect them, and now they were gone, taken into the wilderness by a man facing criminal charges.

Cat’s nightmare had begun.

The Philips family’s sprawling farm near Maricopa became ground zero for speculation.

Did they know where Tom and the children were? Were they helping him hide? Tom’s parents, his siblings, they all insisted they knew nothing.

They claimed they were as desperate to find the children as anyone.

But February 9th, 2022, Tom Phillips returned to the family farm.

Alone, it was night, darkness covering his movements.

He collected supplies, food, equipment, necessities for survival, told his family the children were safe, then vanished back into the wilderness.

He had grown a thick beard, looking like a different man entirely.

The visit lasted less than an hour.

He didn’t say where the children were.

He didn’t say when he’d return.

He just left.

Days became weeks.

Weeks became months.

Police believed Philillips and his children were hiding somewhere in the western Wiccado region.

likely within the vast wilderness surrounding Maricopa.

But the terrain was unforgiving.

Steep hills covered in dense native bush, valleys that stayed wet for days after rain, caves, and hidden gullies known only to those who’d spent a lifetime hunting the land.

Tom Phillips had spent a lifetime hunting this land.

In May 2022, the children’s older halfsisters launched a petition demanding that police and government agencies do more to find them.

They appeared on television, their faces etched with worry, begging for their younger siblings to be brought home safely.

Cat, the children’s mother, released her own appeals.

Videos where she spoke directly to the camera, her voice breaking, pleading for anyone with information to come forward.

Every day without them is a waking nightmare, she said.

But there were no credible leads, no sightings, no tracks.

It was as if Tom Phillips and three children had been swallowed by the wilderness itself.

Police eventually suggested maybe Philillips had changed their names.

Maybe they’d started a new life in a different part of New Zealand, hiding in plain sight in some small town where nobody asked questions.

But those who knew Phillips, those who understood his skill in the bush, believed differently.

He was out there watching, waiting, living like a ghost in the wilderness he called home.

August 2nd, 2023, nearly two years after the second disappearance, a Toyota Hilix was reported stolen from the Pakur area.

Not just any truck, a vehicle identical to the one Philillips had abandoned at Kar Beach.

Then came the sightings.

A man matching Philillip’s description was spotted driving the stolen truck through Kawia, a small coastal settlement.

An altercation occurred.

Someone recognized him, challenged him.

Philillips fled.

Police arrived too late.

The truck was found days later near Tayanga, abandoned once again.

But something else emerged from these sightings.

Security footage from a Bunnings hardware store in Hamilton captured a man wearing a surgical mask moving quickly through the aisles with purpose.

He paid cash for headlamps, batteries, seedlings, buckets, and Wellington boots.

The supplies of someone planning to live off the grid for a long time.

Cat, the children’s mother, had been in that same store.

She saw him, recognized him despite the mask.

She gave chase through the parking lot, screaming for help, but Philillips jumped into the stolen truck and disappeared.

The purchases told a story police couldn’t ignore.

This wasn’t a man planning to return to civilization.

This was someone digging in, preparing for an extended stay in the wilderness, setting up campsites, growing food, surviving.

Police increased their patrols around Maricopa.

They interviewed locals, asking if anyone had seen or heard anything unusual.

But in a community as tight-knit as Maricopa, loyalty ran deep.

The Philips family had been farming this land for generations.

They were one of them.

Nobody talked except the community was starting to fracture.

Some residents believed Tom was a devoted father doing what he thought was best for his children, living free from the constraints of modern society.

Others grew increasingly concerned.

Three young children living in the bush with no medical care, no education, no contact with anyone except their father.

How could that be right? Then came May 2023 and everything changed.

Two figures walked into a bank in Taikiti, a nearby rural town.

Both wore black clothing.

Both had their faces covered.

The larger figure carried a firearm.

“Give us the money,” the larger figure demanded.

“Now bank employees complied.” The robbers filled a bag with cash, but as they fled, money spilled from the bag onto the street.

An elderly woman, not realizing it was stolen, picked up several bills and called out to the fleeing robbers.

“You dropped your money!” she shouted.

The smaller figure, clearly a child, ran back and snatched the cash from the woman’s hand.

Witnesses stood frozen in shock as the two robbers jumped on a motorbike and roared away.

Security footage captured the escape.

A man and a small person, both in black.

The height difference was obvious.

Police had little doubt who they were looking at.

Tom Phillips had just committed armed robbery with one of his children.

Charges were filed.

Aggravated robbery, aggravated wounding, unlawful possession of a firearm.

Philillips was now considered armed and extremely dangerous.

The stakes had changed.

This wasn’t just about a custody dispute anymore.

Lives were at risk.

But Philillips remained a ghost.

Months passed with no further sightings.

It was as if the armed robbery had scared him deeper into hiding until October 3rd, 2024.

Two teenage boys were pig hunting in the remote farmland near Maricopa.

The terrain was rough, the kind of place where you could walk for hours without seeing another human being.

They were tracking a wild boar when movement caught their eye.

Four figures emerged from the treeline.

A man, tall and bearded, dressed in camouflage with a large backpack.

Behind him, three children also in camouflage gear, raincoats, and heavy backpacks.

All four wore headlamps despite it being daylight.

One of the teenagers pulled out his phone and started recording.

The footage was shaky, taken from a distance, but there was no mistaking what they were seeing.

“Do people know you’re here?” one of the boys called out.

The youngest child turned, looked directly at them.

Only you,” the child said.

Then kept walking, following their father deeper into the wilderness.

The teenagers noticed the rifle Philillips carried.

They watched until the family disappeared into the dense bush, then immediately called police.

Within hours, the area swarmed with law enforcement.

Regular officers, armed response teams, even military helicopters joined the search.

For 3 days, they combed the rugged landscape, checking caves, following tracks, using the latest technology to detect any heat signatures.

They found nothing.

No campsites, no tracks leading anywhere.

No trash or evidence anyone had been there.

It was as if the family had been swallowed by the earth itself.

Police suspected Philillips was moving constantly, never staying in one place long enough to leave a trace.

He knew they were coming.

He always knew.

Detective Senior Sergeant Andy Saunders, the officer leading Operation Curly, the police code name for the Phillips investigation, faced an impossible situation.

They knew generally where Phillips was.

They had resources at their disposal.

But how do you catch a man who knows the terrain better than you do, who’s willing to put his children at risk, who’s proven he’ll use violence? Sending in large search teams was dangerous.

Phillips was armed.

If cornered, what would he do? Would he use his children as shields? Would he open fire with police closing in? The government even considered deploying the New Zealand Special Air Service, the country’s elite military unit.

But Prime Minister Christopher Luxon shut down that idea.

Too risky, too much potential for tragedy.

So, police waited and watched, hoped Phillips would make a mistake.

But as winter approached, a new concern emerged.

The Wiccado region gets brutally cold.

Ground temperatures drop below freezing for nearly 50 days each year.

The bush stays wet.

The wind cuts through clothing.

Hypothermia becomes a real threat.

How were three children surviving in these conditions? August 27th, 2025.

The security camera at a convenience store in Po triggered an alert at a.m.

Two masked figures appeared on screen, one tall, one small.

They were using an angle grinder to break through a glass cooler outside the store.

The grinding sound echoed through the sleeping town.

They grabbed what they needed, milk primarily, and fled on a quad bike before police could respond.

The store owner reviewed the footage the next morning.

Just milk.

These desperate thieves had gone through all that trouble for milk.

Police released the security footage publicly.

The images were grainy, but clear enough.

A man and a child, both wearing headlamps, both in weatherproof gear.

For anyone who’d been following the case, there was no question who they were looking at.

Tom Phillips was getting desperate, and desperation makes people dangerous.

Detective Saunders studied the footage carefully.

This was the second time Philillips had targeted stores in Po.

There had been an earlier break-in at the same location in November 2023.

The pattern suggested something important.

Philillips was running out of supplies.

The self-sufficient wilderness man who evaded capture for nearly four years was now resorting to petty theft, which meant he might be losing his support network.

Police had always believed someone was helping Phillips.

No one could survive that long in the bush without outside assistance.

Food, supplies, information about police movements.

Someone had been providing these things.

But maybe the help had dried up.

Maybe whoever had been supporting him decided enough was enough.

The community of Maricopa was changing too.

Initially, many residents had viewed Philillips as a man fighting for his children.

But as years passed, as the children missed birthday after birthday, as Christmas came and went four times with no celebration, public sentiment shifted.

Philip’s sister Rozie placed wrapped presents under her Christmas tree every year, one for each child, hoping this would be the year they walked through the door.

But the presents remained unopened.

The children remained lost.

Police offered an $80,000 reward in June 2024.

They promised immunity to anyone who had been helping Philillips if they came forward.

The reward expired without anyone claiming it.

Either nobody was helping him or those who were helping remained fanatically loyal.

Saunders and his team worked around the clock.

Every reported sighting, every rumor, every piece of gossip from the local community, they investigated it all.

Farmers reported tools going missing from sheds.

Someone reported a butchered sheep in their paddock taken overnight.

A quad bike vanished from a property near Maricopa.

Any crime in the region was automatically suspected to be Philillip’s work.

Most of it probably wasn’t, but some of it certainly was.

The investigation was taking its toll on Saunders.

2 years of dead ends, false leads, and the constant knowledge that three children were living in conditions no child should endure.

He thought about them constantly.

Where were they sleeping? Were they warm enough? Did they have enough food? what kind of psychological damage was being done by years of isolation.

But more than anything, Saunders worried about what would happen when they finally found Phillips.

Because one thing was certain, a confrontation was coming.

And when it came, someone was going to get hurt.

September 8th, 2025, a.m.

The alarm at the PG Writson Farm Supply Store in Po pierced the quiet night.

The silent alert went directly to police dispatch.

Two figures on a quad bike, both wearing headlamps, breaking into the store.

This time, police were ready.

Multiple patrol units were in the area, part of the increased presence since the last robbery.

When the call came through, they moved quickly, but Tom Phillips was already fleeing.

His eldest daughter Jada riding behind him on the quad bike.

They had loaded it with supplies, food, equipment, necessities.

They couldn’t get any other way.

Philillips chose his escape route carefully, Tianga Road, a gravel track that wound through rural farmland back toward Maricopa.

He knew this road.

He traveled it hundreds of times.

In the darkness, with only the quad bike’s headlight cutting through the night, he must have felt confident.

What he didn’t know was that police had time to set a trap.

Officers raced ahead, found a good position on the narrow road, and deployed road spikes across both lanes.

Then they waited, hidden in the darkness.

The quad bike hit the spikes at speed.

The tires shredded.

Philillips fought for control as the bike slowed, then came to a stop about 30 km north of Po.

He could hear sirens in the distance, growing closer.

The first police car arrived within minutes.

Constable.

His name has never been released to protect his family.

Pulled to a stop near the disabled quad bike.

He could see two figures in the glow of his headlights.

He opened his door, stepped out, hand moving toward his radio to report he’d found them.

The muzzle flash came before the sound.

Philillips fired a high-powered rifle at point blank range.

The constable felt the impact before his brain registered he’d been shot.

The bullet struck his head.

Then another round hit his shoulder.

He stumbled, fell, then dragged himself back toward his patrol car as bullets continued to slam into the vehicle.

Glass shattered.

Metal tore.

The constable crouched behind his car door, blood pouring from his wounds, and reached for his radio.

Shots fired.

He managed to say, “Officer down.” Jada watched her father again and again at the wounded officer.

She was 12 years old.

She’d spent 4 years in the wilderness with this man, following him, trusting him, believing he was protecting her from something terrible.

Now she watched him try to murder a police officer.

A second patrol car appeared.

The officer driving heard shots fired and came in fast, high beams cutting through the darkness.

Phillips turned the rifle toward the new threat.

But this officer was ready.

As Philillips raised his weapon, the officer fired first.

Tom Phillips died on Tanga Road at a.m.

September 8th, 2025.

He was 40 years old.

He died holding a rifle, standing next to a quad bike loaded with stolen goods with his eldest daughter watching.

The wounded constable was still conscious, radioing for help despite his injuries.

An ambulance was already on route.

He would survive, but the road ahead would be long and painful.

Multiple surgeries awaited him.

But the nightmare wasn’t over.

Two children were still out there in the darkness.

Jada stood in the glare of police headlights, her father’s body on the ground nearby.

Officers approached carefully, weapons drawn, not knowing what they were dealing with.

Was this child armed? Would she fight? Would she run? Instead, she broke.

The girl who’d spent 4 years in the wilderness, who’d participated in a bank robbery, who just watched her father die, became a child again.

She sobbed.

She answered questions.

She told police what they needed to know.

Her siblings, Maverick, 10, and Ember, 9, were waiting at a campsite approximately 2 km away.

Their father had told them to wait, that he’d return before dawn with supplies.

They had a rifle at the camp.

They’d been trained to use it if necessary.

Detective Saunders received the text message at a.m.

Jada had been found.

Phillips was dead.

Two children remained in the bush.

His team mobilized immediately, but approaching that campsite required extreme caution.

Police knew there was a firearm there.

They knew these children had been conditioned to survive, to hide, possibly to fight if cornered, and they were alone now, probably terrified, possibly armed.

Specialist negotiators from the police special tactics group were called in.

Armed officers established a perimeter.

Helicopters stood by their thermal imaging equipment scanning the dense bush as dawn broke.

Then came the delicate task of making contact.

The negotiators used Jada’s help.

What would the children respond to? What could be said to make them trust the police? Jada provided the words, the phrases her siblings would recognize, things only she would know.

The negotiation lasted hours.

The sun rose over the Wiccado wilderness.

50 police personnel surrounded the area.

All of them acutely aware that one wrong word, one wrong move could result in tragedy.

These children had spent 4 years learning to distrust outsiders to view police as a threat.

Their father was dead, killed by officers.

What reason did they have to surrender? But slowly, carefully, the negotiators established trust.

They explained their father wouldn’t be coming back.

They promised safety, medical care, a chance to see their mother again.

They spoke with patients, understanding that the children had been through unimaginable trauma .

At p.m., more than 12 hours after their father’s death, Maverick and Ember emerged from the bush.

They were alive, uninjured, but changed in ways no one could fully understand.

Police found the campsite shortly after.

What they discovered stunned even experienced investigators.

The photographs released by police showed a world few could imagine.

Camouflage netting hung between trees, creating a shelter that blended perfectly with the surrounding bush.

Beneath the netting sat tires, jerry cans, Sprite bottles, and a Jack Daniels box being used as storage.

Sleeping areas had been dug into the hillside, trenches carved out of the earth where children had slept for months.

A second site located about 200 m away contained the main living area, a large bivwak built on a hillside with more sleeping trenches, cooking equipment scattered around a makeshift fire pit, tarps covering supplies.

The whole setup was mobile, designed to be packed up and moved quickly.

It’s grim, Detective Saunders told reporters.

Dimly lit, surrounded by dense bush.

The tent was well covered and dry, but this was no camping trip.

This was survival.

A cache of firearms was discovered at the site.

Ammunition supplies that raised disturbing questions.

Where did these weapons come from? Who had been helping Philillips arm himself? The investigation had found its next phase.

Police believe the family moved between multiple campsites over the four years, never staying in one place long enough to leave a permanent trace.

They’d found three sites so far, but suspected there were more hidden throughout the region.

Philillips had been careful, skilled, and utterly committed to remaining hidden.

But the children’s conditions told a darker story.

For years without medical care, no formal education, no contact with anyone except their father and potentially a few supporters.

They’d missed holidays, birthdays, graduations.

They’d missed being children.

Psychologists who specialize in cult deprogramming examined the situation.

The term cult seemed extreme until you considered the reality.

A charismatic leader isolating followers from outside contact.

Creating a worldview where only he could be trusted.

Where external authorities were the enemy, where survival depended on absolute obedience.

Tom Phillips had created a cult with himself as leader and his own children as followers.

The children were placed in the care of Orina Tamariki, New Zealand’s Child Protection Agency.

Medical evaluations began immediately.

Physical health concerns certainly, but the psychological damage would take years to assess fully.

Cat, their mother, released a statement to the media.

Her relief was palpable, but so was her grief.

They have been dearly missed everyday for nearly 4 years.

She said, “We are looking forward to welcoming them home with love and care, but there was no timeline for reunification.

Court orders protected the children’s privacy and dictated how their return to normal life would proceed.

Cat had no idea when she would see her children again, even though they were now safe.

The legal complexities, the psychological considerations, the need for slow, careful reintegration, all of it meant more waiting, more uncertainty.” Police Minister Mark Mitchell addressed the issue publicly.

We don’t know what they’ve fully been exposed to.

He said, “It’s a complex situation.

The people caring for them are making sure the children are first and foremost in their minds.

” But the question everyone asked was, “How long would it take for these children to recover? Could they recover?” The investigation into Tom Phillips support network continues.

Police are certain he didn’t survive alone for 4 years.

Someone supplied him with firearms.

Someone provided information.

Someone helped him remain hidden.

Operation Cran, the new investigation into Philip’s accompllices involves examining every campsite, every weapon, every piece of equipment found, who sold him the rifles, where did the ammunition come from? How did he get cash to buy supplies at hardware stores? The stolen vehicles, the robberies, the sightings.

Police are building a timeline of everyone who might have crossed paths with Philillips during his years in hiding.

In a community as small as Maricopa, it’s hard to believe nobody knew anything.

But proving it is another matter entirely.

The farmland surrounding Maricopa is vast.

Properties stretch for hundreds of acres with far corners that owners rarely visit.

Sheds, barns, and holiday homes that the landscape, many of them in used for months at a time.

Had Philillips been hiding in some of these places? Had he been moving between the wilderness and civilization more than anyone realized? Local resident Warren Keegan expressed what many felt.

Most people reckon if you just left him alone, he would have come out anyway.

He got pushed into a corner.

But police commissioner Richard Chambers pushed back hard against any romanticization of Phillips.

No one who does this to children.

No one who unleashes high-powered rifles on my staff is a hero, he said firmly.

The wounded constable faces a long recovery.

Multiple surgeries to repair damage to his head and shoulder.

Psychological trauma from the shooting.

The knowledge that he’d nearly died on a dark rural road, shot by a man who should have been in custody years earlier.

Did the system fail? Could this tragedy have been prevented? Those questions will be answered by the public inquiry.

But preliminary reporting suggests missed opportunities.

Court orders that weren’t enforced.

Family court proceedings that moved too slowly.

Police resources stretched thin across a vast rural area.

The tension between bringing a peaceful resolution and the need for aggressive action.

A documentary is in production but faces legal challenges.

The children’s privacy must be protected.

Justice Gary Collin granted an injunction preventing publications from identifying the children or showing their images.

The family, both Tom’s side and Cat’s side, oppose any film that might retraumatize the children.

Yet, the world remains fascinated.

The story of a father who vanished with his children into the wilderness for 4 years, living like fugitives from another era, seems impossible in the modern world, but it happened in New Zealand.

in 2021 through 2025 in a place with cell phone service and internet and all the tracking technology a developed nation can muster and it almost worked.

Tom Phillips almost made it a few more weeks lying low letting the heat die down and he might have continued evading capture but desperation drove him to that farm supply store in Popio.

hunger, need or the desire to provide for his children.

Whatever motivated that final robbery, it cost him everything.

As this story is written, the three Philip’s children remain in the care of Orina Tamariki.

They have not been reunited with their mother, though plans are being developed.

Court orders protect their identities and their privacy as they begin the long process of reintegration into society.

Jada, Maverick, and Ember face challenges.

no children should have to face.

They must learn to trust again.

They must understand the father they loved was also the man who kidnapped them, committed crimes with them, and ultimately died in a shootout with police.

They must reconcile the wilderness life they knew with the civilization they’re now entering.

They must learn to be children again.

The wilderness that was their home for 4 years remains.

The dense bush of the Wiccado region, the steep valleys and hidden gullies, the black sand beaches where this all began.

It’s beautiful country, rugged and wild.

People still go pig hunting there.

Farmers still work the land.

Maricopa continues on.

A tiny community forever changed by the events that unfolded on their doorstep.

The campsites have been photographed, cataloged, and dismantled.

The firearms have been collected as evidence.

The quad bike sits in a police evidence facility.

The investigation continues, but three children who disappeared in December 2021 are home.

They survived.

Against all odds through 4 years in conditions that would break most adults, they survived.

Now comes the harder part, learning to truly live again.

The world watched as Tom Phillips and his three children vanished into the New Zealand wilderness.

The world watched as police searched, as years passed, as hope faded and was renewed with each sighting.

The world watched as it all ended in gunfire on a dark rural road.

Now the world watches three children who emerge from the wilderness, blinking in the light of a world that moved on without them.

Their story is not over.

In many ways, it’s just beginning.

The years ahead will determine whether the four years in the wilderness define them or whether they can overcome the trauma and build new lives.

For now, they are safe.

They are together.

And they are no longer hiding in the shadows of New Zealand’s rugged wilderness, waiting for a father who will never return.

The mystery of how Tom Phillips survived for 4 years has been partially answered.

But the greater mystery, why he did it, what he hoped to achieve, what he told his children about the world they’d left behind, may never be fully understood.

Tom Phillips took those secrets with him when he died on Tianga Road.

What remains are three children who must now learn to trust a world they were taught to fear, and a nation left asking how this tragedy was allowed to unfold in the first place.

The story of Tom Phillips and his three children is one that left the world stunned.

Three kids who spent four years in the wilderness are now beginning a new chapter.

But the questions surrounding this case may never be fully answered.

What do you think? Could this tragedy have been prevented? Should the police have done more earlier? Drop your thoughts in the comments below.

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