The plan was to cause the greatest pain she could imagine
In the waters off Tenerife, a case has emerged that has forced Spain to confront the darkest possibilities within the institution of family. A father, entrusted with his two young daughters for a routine visit, allegedly took their lives and cast their small bodies into the deep Atlantic — an act that courts suggest was designed not merely to destroy, but to wound the children's mother through perpetual uncertainty. The nation, from its streets to its highest office, has responded with grief and outrage, while justice pursues a man who has vanished as deliberately as he acted.
- Two little girls — Olivia, six, and Anna, barely one — never came home from a visit with their father, and the silence of their absence tore open something in the Spanish national conscience.
- Demonstrations erupted in cities across Spain before the full truth was even known, driven by a collective dread that the worst had already happened.
- Court documents allege the father killed both daughters on April 27, sealed their bodies in weighted sports bags, and dropped them into 1,000 meters of Atlantic water — with investigators concluding the disappearance itself was engineered as a weapon of psychological torment against their mother.
- A police patrol stopped the suspect that same night for a curfew violation and let him go, a moment of ordinary procedure that now reads as a haunting near-miss with justice.
- Divers recovered Olivia's body from the seafloor on June 10, weighted by an anchor; an autopsy confirmed she had drowned, while her sister Anna remains missing.
- An international arrest warrant has been issued, but the suspect has vanished entirely — leaving the machinery of justice in motion and a mother, a country, and an ocean still holding unanswered questions.
On the last day of April, a man in Tenerife was supposed to return his two daughters — six-year-old Olivia and one-year-old Anna — to their mother. He did not. What followed became a wound across Spain, a story that stopped the nation and forced a reckoning with how the smallest lives can be made to bear the weight of adult cruelty.
Within weeks, the girls' disappearance had drawn angry crowds into the streets of cities across the country. Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez, speaking from abroad, said that all of Spain was shocked — naming what had happened as sexist violence, and acknowledging the grief as something shared and collective.
A judicial investigation released on June 12 laid out what authorities believe occurred. On April 27, Tomas G killed both daughters at his home. He then placed their bodies in sports bags, drove to his boat, and threw them overboard into the Atlantic around 10:30 that evening. The water runs 1,000 meters deep. Court documents offered a theory of motive that was as chilling as the act itself: the accused intended to cause his ex-partner the greatest pain imaginable by ensuring she would never know what had become of her children. The girls were not simply killed — their disappearance was designed as an instrument of torment.
In a detail that carries its own particular weight, a police patrol stopped Tomas G that same night for violating the coronavirus curfew. He was allowed to leave. After midnight, he took the boat out again. He has not been seen since.
On June 10, divers found a sports bag on the seafloor near where his drifting boat had been discovered. Inside was Olivia's body, held down by an anchor. An autopsy confirmed she had drowned. A second bag, found nearby, was empty. Anna has not been recovered.
By Saturday, an international arrest warrant had been issued on two counts of aggravated homicide and one of domestic violence. The search continues — for a man, and for a child still somewhere in the sea.
On the last day of April, a man in Tenerife took his two daughters—one six years old, one barely past her first birthday—and did not bring them back. By the time authorities pieced together what had happened, the case had become a wound across Spain, the kind of story that stops a nation mid-breath and forces it to reckon with what it means to fail the smallest among us.
Tomas G was supposed to return Olivia and Anna to their mother at the end of April. He did not. The girls vanished into the kind of absence that leaves no room for hope, and within weeks, the disappearance had sparked angry demonstrations in cities across the country. People took to the streets not knowing yet what had happened, only that two children were gone and their father was missing too. Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez, visiting Costa Rica, felt compelled to speak: "All Spain is shocked," he said, acknowledging a grief that had become collective, a rejection of what he called sexist violence and the vicarious harm it inflicts on those left behind.
A preliminary judicial investigation, released on Saturday, June 12, laid out what investigators believed had occurred. On April 27, in his house on the island, Tomas G killed both daughters. The court documents do not dwell on how. Instead, they move directly to what came after: he placed their small bodies in sports bags, wrapped them in towels, and drove to his boat. Around 10:30 that evening, he threw both bags overboard into the Atlantic. The water there runs deep—1,000 meters down—and cold enough to keep secrets. But the court document offers something else: a theory about motive. "The plan of the accused was to cause his ex-partner the greatest pain she could imagine, by deliberately causing uncertainty about the fate that Olivia and Anna had suffered at his hands." In other words, the children were not simply killed. They were weaponized. Their disappearance was designed as an instrument of torment.
What happened next carries the strange texture of routine interrupted by catastrophe. After dumping the bodies, Tomas G returned to port in his boat. A police patrol boat stopped him for violating the coronavirus curfew that was in effect at the time. He was allowed to leave. After midnight on April 28, he took the boat out again. He has not been seen since.
On Thursday, June 10, divers recovered a sports bag from the seafloor near where his boat had been found drifting. Inside was Olivia's body, weighted down by an anchor. A second bag was found at the same location, empty. An autopsy determined that she had died from pulmonary edema—fluid in the lungs, the body's final protest against drowning.
By Saturday, an international arrest warrant had been issued for Tomas G on two counts of aggravated homicide and one of domestic violence. The machinery of justice had begun to move, but the man himself remained gone, somewhere beyond the reach of law enforcement, beyond the reach of the mother who had entrusted her daughters to him, beyond the reach of a country that had watched this story unfold and found itself unable to look away.
Citas Notables
The plan of the accused was to cause his ex-partner the greatest pain she could imagine, by deliberately causing uncertainty about the fate that Olivia and Anna had suffered at his hands.— Court document from preliminary judicial investigation
All Spain is shocked, all our support for the families whose pain is absolutely unbearable and unimaginable, all our rejection of sexist violence.— Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does the court document emphasize that he wanted to cause maximum pain through uncertainty? That seems like an unusual detail to include.
Because it reframes the crime from impulsive act to calculated cruelty. He didn't just kill them—he designed the aftermath to torment their mother. The uncertainty itself was part of the weapon.
And the fact that he was stopped by police after dumping the bodies, then released—does that change anything legally?
It's haunting more than it changes the legal case. He was stopped for a curfew violation while carrying evidence of what he'd just done. The routine nature of that stop, the fact that he was let go, makes the timeline feel almost absurd in retrospect.
The empty sports bag—what does that tell us?
That Anna's body was never recovered. One child found, one still missing. The mother doesn't even have that closure. The uncertainty the court document mentions isn't abstract—it's real and ongoing.
Why did he take the boat out again after midnight?
No one knows. Maybe he was trying to disappear. Maybe he was going back out to sea. The fact that he vanished suggests he knew what was coming—that the first stop by police had given him a window, and he took it.
And the demonstrations across Spain—what were people responding to?
The not-knowing, initially. Two children gone, a father missing. But also something deeper: the recognition that this was domestic violence taken to its absolute extreme. It forced the country to see the continuum from control to harm to this.