On a sunny day in 1970, Marilyn Halburg accompanied her eight-year-old daughter, Charlotte, to Disneyland. The trip was meant to be a simple adventure between mother and daughter, a tradition that Marilyn has nurtured.

One moment, Charlotte was taking pictures with a costumed character. The next, she was gone.

Security was limited to modern standards. Witness descriptions were cryptic: “Just a rabbit.” There were no cameras in the garden at the time, and no signs of a struggle appeared. The case was treated as a missing child wandering into a crowd. No suspects were called in. The trail went cold.

The Next Twenty Years
Marilyn’s life came to a standstill. She poured all her money into ads, hired private investigators, and took her and then searched for her. In the end, the psychological pressure forced her to sell her house. She moved to a small apartment in Boena Park, carrying the weight of that day in 1970 with her wherever she went.

The only constant was the hope that Charlotte was still alive somewhere.

1990 – A Break After the Storm
After two decades, a severe flood hit Southern California. In Stanton, near the concrete canal along the perimeter of Disneyland, James, a meticulous farmer, assessed the damage to his property. The floodwaters washed away for years.

And that morning, Picky saw a red bag partially buried in the mud.

At first, I thought it was just junk, but then I remembered something strange. “It was old, very old. When I opened it, I found a costume inside: a bunny girl outfit, the kind they used to wear in cabarets. Underneath, there was a blue floral dress for a little girl. It was faded and dirty. Over the years, water had seeped inside.

Call the police immediately.

Detective Nolan Beria killed Marilyn.

In Boena Park, Marilyn’s phone rang. The caller was identified as “Detective Nolan Beria.”

“Hello Marilyn, this is Nolan Beria,” he said quietly. “Please remain seated. We found something. Something related to Charlotte’s case.”

Twenty years after the fabricated evidence, Marilyn tried to suppress her hopes. “I don’t need this, Nolan. Every time you find nothing, it leads to nothing.” “I can’t keep doing this myself.”

“This is different, Marilyn. This is important. We need you to go to the crime scene to learn some details.”

He explained that one of the farmers near Disneyland had discovered an old bag containing a rabbit and what looked like a child’s dress.

“Marilyn, this appears to be the dress Charlotte was wearing that day in the garden.”

She agreed to go immediately.

At the crime scene, forensic experts brushed the contents of the bag onto a sheet. Marilyn, wearing gloves, knelt down and held up her faded, dirt-stained dress.

“This is Charlotte’s dress,” she whispered through her tears. “I made it myself.” “Look, I had to redo this part because I took the wrong measurements.”

I examined the bunny head: the scalp was yellowed, the stuffing was rotting, and its eyes were broken. Investigator Beria informed her about an old photo of Charlie Chaplin, smiling next to the rabbit statue in front of the beautiful sleeping castle.

“This outfit looks different from the one in the picture,” Marilyn said.

Disneyland confirms it’s a fake.

Police held a meeting at Disneyland headquarters. Fashion designer Gerald Head of the Rabbit emphasized: “This is definitely handwritten. Our handcuffs use a standard mechanism. Furthermore, this isn’t even a realistic depiction of the white rabbit: look at the shape of the ears and the structure of the face. This is a replica of the March Bunny.”

The brown sign inside the head confirmed that it wasn’t from the park. Whoever wore it was probably not a Disney employee.

Investigator Beria concluded: “It was all planned for him.” One of them brought this uniform specifically to get closer to the children at the kindergarten.”

Marilyn Searches for the Creator
At home, Marilyn couldn’t sit still. I looked in the phone book for fashion stores, and soon found one: the Cryer Fashion Store on Santa Anna.

The owner opened the door for Elias Karara.

Polaroid images of a modified rabbit head, focused on the brown sticker inside. Elias examined it.

“This brand? It’s not mine. But this outfit is modified. Do you see these stitches? How is the mouth? And the nose loop was replaced? Whoever did this wanted to change the expressions, to make them sad or maybe frightening.”

Elias disappeared into a back room and returned with glasses, a nose ring, and a yellow drawing.

“Years ago, one of them came in with this diagram. He wanted us to alter a uniform to fit him. I still keep these pieces in the store. Seeing your photos reminded me of it.”

He no longer has receipts of paper, but she thinks her son Benjamin, who suffers from obsessive-compulsive disorder, has done his work.

Benjamin’s Database
Marilyn Benjamin was found at the Fresh Fields store in Santa Anna. He emphasized, “Yes, I have it. All of them. I put it in Lotus 1-3-3.”

After his shift, they sat at a picnic table in front of the store. Marilyn showed him drawing. Benjamin searched the database for alterations made since 1970.

After forty-five minutes, he stopped. “Here. Look at this.”

The entry date was May 15, 1970, and it states: “Costume alterations: nail replacement, adding glasses, stitching.”