My Wife Fed My Daughter To The Sharks

By the time I arrived, the rescue team had just brought down the shark with a tranquilizer dart.

A vast stretch of the ocean had turned red.

I dove into the water without hesitation and cradled my daughter, Violet Fuller, in my arms. The shark had mauled her badly. The sight of her left my eyes filled with tears.

Tears streamed down my face.

I had only stepped away to buy some water. I had been gone for less than an hour.

How had my healthy, cheerful little girl ended up like this?

When Violet saw me, her unfocused eyes briefly cleared, as though my presence had pulled her back from the brink.

She parted her lips and murmured weakly, using what little strength she had left.

I leaned closer and heard her say, “Daddy, it hurts. It hurts so much… Daddy, my hand’s gone, isn’t it? Why doesn’t Mommy love me anymore?”

My entire body began trembling. As Violet’s eyes drifted shut, I called out to her over and over again.

“Violet, no! Violet, stay with me! Look at me, please. Please, just look at me.”

She did not respond. Several medics rushed over and pulled me away.

“Sir, please step back! Let us do our job!”

I watched as the tiny, blood-soaked Violet was lifted onto a stretcher.

I spent that entire night outside the operating room, staring at the red light above the doors. I was too afraid to close my eyes.

Not once did my wife and Violet’s mother, Eunice Fuller, think to call.

I had no trouble finding out what she was doing.

She was all over the news.

The hospital television was airing a report about a shark attack in the deep waters off Bayport.

In the report, Eunice was being hailed as a hero.

She had rescued a seven-year-old boy from the jaws of the shark.

That boy was Toby McCreary, the son of her first love.

On television, she held the terrified Toby in her arms and comforted him with great patience.

Yet she did not spare a thought for her own daughter, whom she had abandoned to the shark.

When Eunice explained that she was a marine animal trainer, the reporter praised her as a true hero.

She smiled bashfully at the compliment.

I stared at the screen, unable to contain the fury raging inside me.

What kind of hero would choose to save a child she was not even related to while leaving her own daughter to die?

Why was the son of her first love the only child whose life mattered to her?

Did our daughter not matter at all?

My fury reached its peak when I watched the surveillance footage that a friend had gone to great lengths to obtain for me.

The camera was mounted on a nearby lighthouse. It had captured Eunice’s every move in perfect clarity.

The footage showed her deliberately leading both children into deep water.

At first, everything seemed normal, apart from the fact that Eunice only paid attention to Toby and completely ignored Violet.

Then, Toby screamed. A thirteen-foot great white shark had appeared nearby.

What Eunice did next left me frozen in horror.

She reached out and dragged Violet toward her, even though Violet had been the farthest from the shark.

Before Violet could react, Eunice bit into her finger hard.

Blood seeped from Violet’s fingertip as she looked up at Eunice in tears.

Even that failed to stir the slightest trace of compassion in her.

Eunice simply pulled Toby into her arms and swam faster toward the shore.

She left Violet behind to struggle after them with feeble strokes.

Blood from her fingertip spread through the water in her wake.

What happened next was almost too horrific to watch.

The shark closed the distance effortlessly and opened its enormous jaws.

A much larger cloud of red spread across the surface.

If my wife had looked back even once, she would have seen the horror unfolding behind her.

However, she never did.

My hands trembled so violently that I could barely hold my phone.

Before I realized it, tears streamed down my face.

I clutched my head and berated myself over and over again.

I hated myself for not getting there sooner.

Even more, I hated myself for not taking Violet away from that cruel woman long ago.

My sweet Violet…

My little girl would pout and cling to me whenever she needed a shot.

How much pain must she have gone through when the shark tore into her?

How helpless must she have felt when her mother abandoned her?

I could not even begin to imagine it. I was too afraid to even try. The agony tightened around my chest until I could barely breathe.

I thought, ‘Eunice, Violet’s your daughter. How could you be so cruel?’