September 28th, 2015. 2:47 PM.

David Hopper’s phone buzzed across his desk at work. The school. Probably lunch money again. Ava had inherited her mother’s forgetfulness—always leaving her lunchbox on the kitchen counter, her permission slips unsigned, her jacket at home on cold days.

He answered expecting the familiar apology from the front office secretary.

Instead, Principal Martinez’s voice came through, careful and measured in that way that makes your stomach drop before your brain catches up.

“Mr. Hopper, I need to ask you something. Where is Ava?”

David’s hand tightened around the phone. “She’s with her mom. It’s Katie’s custody week.”

The pause on the other end stretched too long.

“Sir, Ava hasn’t been at school since September 7th. That’s twenty-one days.”

The words didn’t land at first. They hung in the air like something foreign, something that couldn’t possibly apply to him.

Twenty-one days.

His six-year-old daughter—the one who begged him to watch her cartwheel across the living room, who slept with a pink unicorn named Sparkles, who lit up every room she entered—had been gone for three weeks.

And he hadn’t known.

“There must be a mistake,” David heard himself say, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears. “Katie would have told me if—”

But even as the words left his mouth, cold realization was already settling in his chest like ice water.

Katie hadn’t returned his calls in weeks. His text messages about picking Ava up for his scheduled visitation had gone unanswered. He’d convinced himself she was just being difficult, playing the same custody games she’d played before.

He’d never imagined she would run.

He’d never imagined she would take Ava and simply disappear.

Before the Silence

To understand the moment David’s world shattered, you have to understand the cracks that had been forming for years.

He’d met Kathryn Ann Baldwin in 2008—Katie, as everyone called her. She was petite, blonde, with hazel eyes that seemed to hold entire conversations without saying a word. She made ordinary moments feel like adventures. A trip to the grocery store became a scavenger hunt. A rainy afternoon became a dance party in the kitchen.

David fell fast. Maybe too fast.

When Katie got pregnant four months into their relationship, David didn’t hesitate. He wanted to be a father. He wanted to build a family with this woman who made him laugh, who made the world feel bigger and brighter.

Ava Grace was born on April 16th, 2009. Seven pounds, three ounces. A head full of blonde hair just like her mother’s. Eyes that seemed to take in everything, curious from the very first moment.

David thought she was perfect.

For a while, they tried to make it work. But the cracks that had always been there—the ones they’d papered over with hope and love—started to widen into fissures.

Katie had demons David hadn’t fully understood at first.​

She struggled with severe anxiety and depression, conditions that were manageable when she took her medication but spiraled when she didn’t. She had a history of prescription drug abuse—painkillers, mostly—that she’d insisted was in her past.​

But the past never stays buried.

David would come home to find Katie passed out on the couch, pill bottles scattered on the coffee table like evidence of a crime in progress. Other times, she’d be awake but distant, her eyes glazed and unfocused, looking at him but not seeing him. She’d forget to pick Ava up from daycare. She’d leave the stove on. Once—David’s blood still ran cold thinking about it—she’d left three-year-old Ava alone in the bathtub while she went outside to smoke.​

He was terrified.

He loved Katie. He wanted to help her. But more than anything, he wanted his daughter safe.

They separated when Ava was four. It broke David’s heart, but he knew it was necessary. They established joint custody through the courts—one week with him, one week with Katie.​

At first, it seemed to work. Katie got treatment. She seemed more stable. Ava thrived—she was bright, energetic, a natural performer who loved cheerleading and gymnastics. She made friends easily, remembered everyone’s names, always had a smile ready.​

But David was always watching. Always worrying.

And by 2015, his worries were justified.​

The Warning Signs Written in a Child’s Words

Ava would come back from Katie’s apartment wearing the same clothes she’d been dropped off in a week earlier. Her hair would be tangled, unbrushed for days. She’d complain that she was hungry, that there hadn’t been much food at Mommy’s house.​

Other times, she’d mention things that made David’s hands shake on the steering wheel.

“Mommy’s friend came over again,” she said one afternoon, her six-year-old voice too casual for the weight of what she was saying. “The one with the tattoos. He yells a lot.”

David kept his voice carefully neutral. “What does he yell about?”

Ava shrugged, her face far too serious for a child. “I don’t know. I go in my room when he’s there. Mommy tells me to”.​

David documented everything. Every missed pickup. Every concerning comment. Every sign that Katie wasn’t providing a safe environment. He reported it to his lawyer, built a case, did everything by the book.​

In August 2015, David filed for full custody.​

He didn’t want to take Ava away from her mother. But he couldn’t stand by and watch his daughter be put in danger.

Katie’s reaction was immediate and terrifying.

She called David screaming, her voice raw and broken, accusing him of trying to steal their daughter. She sent text messages in the middle of the night—some angry, some pleading, some that made no sense at all.​

One message, received at 3:47 AM, simply read: “You’ll never take her from me. She’s MY daughter. MINE”.​

The court date was set for October 2015.​

Katie never made it to court.

September 7th: The Last Day

The last time anyone saw Ava Grace Baldwin, she was wearing a pink dress with white flowers.​

It was Katie’s custody week. David had dropped Ava off the previous Friday, kissing her forehead and promising to see her in seven days.

“I love you, baby girl,” he’d said, watching her run toward Katie’s apartment, her backpack bouncing with each step.

“Love you too, Daddy,” she’d called back, already at the door.​

That was September 11th.

Six days later, Ava didn’t show up to school. Katie didn’t call to explain. She didn’t respond to messages from the school. She simply vanished, taking Ava with her.​

When David finally understood what had happened, he immediately contacted the police.

“My daughter has been abducted by her mother,” he told the officer taking his statement, trying to keep his voice steady. “I have documentation of our custody arrangement. She has no legal right to keep Ava from me”.​

The officer’s response was like a door slamming in his face.

“This is a custody dispute. It’s a civil matter”.​

“She’s MISSING,” David said, his voice breaking on the word. “My daughter is six years old and no one knows where she is.”

Eventually, they issued a felony warrant for Katie’s arrest for interfering with child custody. But without evidence that Ava was in immediate danger, their hands were tied.​

David couldn’t believe it. His daughter was gone, and the system seemed more concerned with paperwork than finding her.

So he did what any desperate father would do.

He started searching himself.​

The Search That Never Stopped

David Hopper spent the next months—then years—doing everything he could think of to find his daughter.​

He hired five different private investigators over the years. Each one followed leads that evaporated like smoke. He hired multiple lawyers who filed motions, requested court orders, navigated a legal system that seemed designed to protect parental rights over children’s safety.​​

By his own estimate, David spent over $45,000 trying to find Ava.​

He created social media pages dedicated to the search. He posted flyers in every city Katie had ties to—San Antonio, Chicago, Dallas, Los Angeles, Miami. He reached out to every person who had ever known Katie, begging for information.​

Most had nothing to tell him. They hadn’t seen Katie in years.

But a few had troubling stories.

One of Katie’s former friends told David that Katie had been paranoid in the months before she disappeared. She’d claimed someone was following her, watching her, trying to take Ava away.​

“She kept saying she had to protect Ava,” the friend said. “That people were out to get her. I thought she was just being dramatic. Now I wonder if she was having some kind of breakdown”.​

Another acquaintance mentioned seeing Katie at a gas station on the outskirts of San Antonio just days before she vanished. She’d looked scared, kept checking over her shoulder.​

Every lead David followed ended in disappointment.

Until April 2016.

The Abandoned Car

Seven months after Katie and Ava disappeared, a silver 2014 Ford Escape was found abandoned in a parking lot on Whitby Road in San Antonio.​

The license plate matched: Q29-2793. Illinois plates. Katie’s car.​

When police processed the vehicle, they found it had been wiped clean. No fingerprints beyond what you’d expect. No personal belongings. No notes, no receipts, no indication of where they’d been or where they were going.​

It was like Katie had deliberately erased any trace of their journey.

David was both hopeful and devastated. The car proved Katie had been in San Antonio as recently as seven months ago. She hadn’t fled the country. She was still somewhere in the United States.​

But the lack of evidence was maddening. If Katie had abandoned the car, how was she moving around? Where was she staying? How was she supporting herself and Ava without leaving a paper trail?​

The detective working the case had theories.

“She could be staying in shelters. Women’s shelters, homeless shelters. A lot of them don’t require ID if you claim you’re fleeing domestic violence. She could move from shelter to shelter, never staying long enough for anyone to recognize her”.​​

It made a sick kind of sense.

Katie had no criminal record beyond the custody warrant. She could blend in, tell a story about being stalked by an ex-husband, claim she needed to keep moving to stay safe. And who would question a mother with a young daughter seeking help?​

Someone was helping her. David was certain of it. Katie couldn’t do this alone—not for this long.​

But proving it was another matter entirely.

Ten Years of What-Ifs

As months turned into years, David found himself living in a strange limbo between hope and grief.​

Katie’s family believed they were dead. “My daughter wasn’t well,” Katie’s mother told reporters in 2018. “She was mentally ill. She wasn’t taking her medication. I think something terrible happened, and we’ll never see either of them again”.​

But David believed differently.

“Katie was desperate,” he said in one interview. “She thought I was trying to take Ava away from her. In her mind, she was protecting her daughter. She’s out there. She’s hiding. And she’s convinced herself she’s doing the right thing”.​

The most heartbreaking possibility haunted David every day: Ava might have no idea she’s missing.​​

When Katie took her in 2015, Ava was only six years old. Young enough that her memories might be fading. Young enough to believe whatever story her mother told her.​

Child psychology experts suggested Katie might have told Ava that David was dangerous. That he’d hurt them if they went back. That they needed to stay hidden to stay safe. Over time, Ava might have internalized that story. She might genuinely believe her mother saved her from something terrible.​

Or Katie might have created an entirely new identity for Ava. Changed her name. Told her she was always homeschooled, that they’d always moved around, that this was normal.​

Ava is sixteen now.

Old enough to have her own social media accounts. Old enough to have friends, maybe a part-time job, a life that feels normal to her. Old enough to scroll past her own missing poster without recognizing the six-year-old in the photo.​

“I think about that all the time,” David said recently. “What if I passed her on the street and didn’t recognize her? What if she’s out there living a completely different life, and she has no idea I’m looking for her?”​

The TikTok That Changed Everything

In July 2025, a viral TikTok video sparked new interest in Ava’s case.​

A teenage girl appeared in several videos posted by an account with no clear identifying information. She looked to be about fifteen or sixteen. Blonde hair. Features that resembled Ava’s age-progression photos.​

True crime sleuths on TikTok and Reddit began comparing the girl’s face to Ava’s photos. The resemblance was uncanny.​

Nancy Grace picked up the story. “Is this missing Ava Grace?” she asked on her show, showing the TikTok video alongside Ava’s age-progression photo.​

David appeared on the show, his voice tight with emotion.

“I want to believe it’s her,” he said. “But I’ve been down this road before. People see a girl who looks like Ava and they reach out, and every time it’s not her. Every time, my heart breaks all over again”.​

Investigators traced IP addresses, contacted TikTok directly, tried to identify the girl in the videos. David flew to Oregon, then Nevada, then Texas, chasing leads that seemed promising.​

But what he found wasn’t Ava.

It was something that made him realize the past ten years—everything he thought he knew—might have been based on incomplete information.

Because the investigation into the TikTok lead brought David back to Katie’s abandoned car. Back to evidence that had been sitting in a police storage facility for nearly a decade.

The Phone No One Knew Existed

When investigators re-examined Katie’s abandoned vehicle in August 2025—this time with newer forensic technology—they found something that had been missed the first time.​

Hidden under the driver’s seat, wedged into a gap in the seat track, was a phone.

Not Katie’s phone. That one had been turned off permanently the day she disappeared, its last ping showing her location near San Antonio before going dark.

This was a different phone. A burner. Not registered to anyone. No SIM card. Just a cheap prepaid device that looked like it had been deliberately hidden.​

When forensic specialists finally cracked it open in late October 2025, they found the battery had been removed—a common tactic to prevent remote tracking or data corruption.​

But the internal memory was intact.

And on that memory was one video file. Recorded on September 6th, 2015. The night before Ava was last seen at school.​

The Video That Changes Everything

The video is dark. Grainy. Shot on the phone’s camera in what appears to be a motel room—cheap floral bedspread visible in the corner, walls the color of old cigarette smoke.​

Katie is on screen. Her face is tear-streaked, eyes red and swollen. She’s talking to someone off-camera. Her voice is shaking.

“I don’t know what else to do,” she says. “He’s going to take her. The court date is next month and he’s going to take her from me.”

A man’s voice responds. The audio is muffled, but enhanced forensic analysis made out most of the words.

“Then you know what you have to do.”

Katie shakes her head. “I can’t. She’s just a baby. She needs her father—”

“He’s not her father,” the voice interrupts. “Not the one that matters. You know what he’ll do if he finds out.”

Katie’s face crumples. “But running— where would we even go?”

“I told you. I have people. Family in Oklahoma. Friends in Florida. You move around, you stay off the grid, you keep her safe.”

“And what about you?” Katie asks.

The man’s voice gets quieter. “They think I’m dead, Katie. We need to keep it that way. But I can help you. I’ll send money. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. Both of you.”

Katie is crying harder now. “I thought you were dead. For two years, I thought—”

“I know. I’m sorry. But everything I did, I did to protect this family. And now you need to do the same.”

The video cuts off abruptly.​

The Man Who Wasn’t Supposed to Exist

When David first watched the video in the presence of investigators, he couldn’t speak for a full minute.

Because he recognized that voice.

Marcus Allen Baldwin. Katie’s older brother.

The same Marcus Allen Baldwin who had died in a car accident in 2013. Or at least, that’s what everyone had been told.​

David had attended the funeral. There had been a closed casket—the accident had been severe, they’d said, the body too damaged for viewing. Katie had been devastated, barely able to stand during the service.​

But if this video was real—and forensic analysis confirmed it had not been doctored or manipulated—then Marcus had faked his own death.​

The question was: why?

Investigators immediately began digging into Marcus Baldwin’s background. What they found painted a disturbing picture.​

Marcus had been involved in a series of financial crimes in 2012—identity theft, credit card fraud, wire fraud. He’d been under federal investigation when his car was found at the bottom of a ravine outside Little Rock, Arkansas, in February 2013.​

The body inside had been burned beyond recognition. DNA testing had confirmed it was Marcus—or so everyone thought.​

But now investigators wondered: whose body had been in that car?

The Investigation Reopens

The discovery of the video in Katie’s abandoned car has transformed Ava’s case from a parental abduction into something far more complex.​

If Marcus is alive, he’s been living under a false identity for twelve years. He’s been helping Katie hide for ten of those years. And he’s been doing it while wanted by federal authorities for financial crimes.​

More disturbing: what did Marcus mean when he said, “You know what he’ll do if he finds out”?

What would David do if he found out? Found out what?

Investigators are now working on two parallel tracks.​

First: locating Marcus Baldwin. If he’s been sending Katie money, there should be a trail. Digital forensics experts are analyzing the metadata from the video, looking for any information that might indicate where it was recorded or sent from.​

Second: re-examining the 2013 car accident. If Marcus faked his death, whose body was in that car? Was someone killed to provide him with a way out?​

David is reeling from the revelation.

“I thought I knew Katie,” he said in a statement released through his attorney. “I thought I understood why she ran. But this— this is something else entirely. If her brother has been pulling the strings this whole time, if he’s the one who convinced her to take Ava and disappear, then everything I thought I knew is wrong.”

The Search Intensifies

With this new information, law enforcement has renewed their efforts to find Katie and Ava.​​

The FBI has joined the investigation, given Marcus’s federal warrant and the possibility of interstate flight. They’re looking at known associates of Marcus, checking financial records for anyone who might have been helping him maintain a hidden identity.​

They’re also re-interviewing Katie’s family members. Did any of them know Marcus was alive? Were any of them helping hide Katie and Ava?​

Katie’s mother insists she had no idea. “If I’d known my son was alive, don’t you think I would have said something?” she told investigators, her voice breaking. “I buried my son. I mourned him. And now you’re telling me it was all a lie?”​

But someone knew. Someone had to have known.​

The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children has updated Ava’s case file with this new information. They’ve released a new statement asking anyone with information about Marcus Baldwin to come forward.​

Age progression photos have been created for Marcus as well—showing what he might look like now at fifty-three years old. They’re being distributed alongside Ava’s photos, in case someone has seen them together.​

A Father’s Anguish

For David, the discovery of the video has brought both hope and fresh pain.​

Hope because it means Katie might not have been acting alone. If Marcus manipulated her, convinced her to run, then maybe Katie was a victim too. Maybe when she’s found, she’ll be able to explain. Maybe there’s a path to healing.​

But also pain because it means the woman he once loved, the mother of his child, kept secrets from him that he never could have imagined. It means Ava has been living in a world shaped by lies for ten years. It means the trauma runs even deeper than he’d feared.​

“I don’t know what to feel anymore,” David said in a recent interview. “Angry? Betrayed? Hopeful? Terrified? It’s all mixed together. The only thing I know for certain is that I need to find my daughter. Nothing else matters”.​

He’s kept Ava’s room exactly as it was the day she disappeared. Pink walls. Cheerleading trophies on the shelf. Her favorite stuffed unicorn—Sparkles—sitting on her bed, waiting.​

“When she comes home,” David says, his voice firm despite the tears in his eyes, “I want her to know that nothing changed. That I was always here, always waiting, always loving her”.​

If You’re Reading This, Ava

David has a message for his daughter, wherever she is:

Ava, baby girl,

I don’t know if you’ll ever see this. I don’t know if you even remember me.

You’re sixteen now. Almost an adult. Old enough to make your own choices. Old enough to seek out the truth if you want to.

I need you to know something: I never stopped looking for you. Not for one single day.

I don’t know what your mom told you about why you left. I don’t know what story you’ve been living with all these years. But I need you to know that I loved you then, I love you now, and I will love you for the rest of my life.

Your room is waiting. Sparkles is waiting. I’m waiting.

Please come home.​

The Question That Haunts Everyone

As of November 2025, Ava Grace Baldwin has been missing for 3,714 days.​

That’s 89,136 hours. More than ten years of wondering, searching, hoping.​

The discovery of the phone in Katie’s car has given investigators their first real break in the case in years. But it’s also raised more questions than it’s answered.​

Is Marcus Baldwin alive? If so, where is he?

Whose body was in that car in 2013?

Has Marcus been helping Katie hide Ava all these years?

And most importantly: where are Katie and Ava now?​

Law enforcement believes that someone reading this knows the answers. Someone has seen something. Someone knows where they are.​​

How You Can Help

Ava Grace Baldwin is still out there somewhere. And someone knows where.​

What to look for:

• A teenage girl, now 16 years old, blonde hair, hazel eyes, approximately 5’2″ tall​

• May be going by a different name​

• May be with a woman in her early 50s (Katie would be 50 years old now)​

• May mention being homeschooled or moving frequently​

• May seem evasive about her past or family background​

Marcus Allen Baldwin:

• White male, would be 53 years old​

• May have changed his appearance significantly​

• Has ties to Oklahoma, Florida, Arkansas, and Texas​

• Wanted on federal charges for financial crimes​

If you have any information:

• National Center for Missing and Exploited Children: 1-800-THE-LOST (1-800-843-5678)​

• FBI Tips: tips.fbi.gov​

• San Antonio Police Department: (210) 207-7660​

You can remain anonymous. Your tip could be the one that finally brings Ava home.​

A Promise Kept Through Time

David Hopper made a promise the day Ava was born—the kind of promise every parent makes, standing in that hospital room, holding that tiny, perfect human for the first time.​

He promised to protect her. To love her. To be there for every moment of her life, big and small.​

For six years, he kept that promise.

For the last ten years, he’s been fighting to keep it again.

“I will find you, Ava,” he says, looking directly into the camera during interviews, hoping somehow she’ll see. “I will never stop looking. I will never stop loving you. And when you come home—because you WILL come home—I’ll be here waiting”.​

The discovery of the hidden phone has given David something he hasn’t had in years: a real lead. A tangible clue. A reason to believe that the truth is finally within reach.​

But it’s also a race against time.

Ava is sixteen now. In less than two years, she’ll be eighteen—legally an adult. If she’s been living under a false identity her entire life, if she’s been told stories that made her believe leaving was the right thing, will she choose to come home?​

Or will she choose to stay lost?

David refuses to think about that possibility.

“She’s my daughter,” he says simply. “No matter how many years pass, no matter what name she goes by, no matter what she’s been told—she’s my daughter. And I’m her father. That will never change”.​

The Hope That Never Dies

Somewhere in America right now, there’s a sixteen-year-old girl.​

She might have blonde hair or she might have dyed it brown. She might go by Ava or by a name she’s been taught to answer to. She might remember the man who used to push her on the swings and teach her to ride a bike, or she might have no memory of him at all.​

But she exists. She’s real. She’s out there.​

And her father is still looking.

Ten years ago, Katie Baldwin made a choice—one shaped by mental illness, manipulation, fear, and desperation. She took her daughter and disappeared, believing she was protecting her.​

But protection built on lies isn’t protection. It’s prison.​

The discovery of Marcus Baldwin’s video has cracked that prison open. The truth is starting to seep through the walls Katie built around herself and Ava.​

The question now is: will the truth set them free?

Or will it reveal something even darker than anyone imagined?

Ava Grace Baldwin. Missing since September 7, 2015. Last seen in San Antonio, Texas. Now 16 years old.

She’s out there somewhere.

Help bring her home.​

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If you have any information about the whereabouts of Ava Grace Baldwin, Kathryn Ann Baldwin, or Marcus Allen Baldwin, please contact the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children at 1-800-THE-LOST (1-800-843-5678) or visit www.missingkids.org. You can also contact the FBI at tips.fbi.gov or the San Antonio Police Department at (210) 207-7660. All tips can remain anonymous.​