Chapter 2

Trinity's POV: It Ends Tonight 

I raise my head expectantly as four-year-old Lily bursts into the room. Behind her comes Julian, his face inscrutable and dark.

My heart swells with the desperate longing of a mother who almost didn't make it home. But then Lily stops suddenly in her tracks.

Her playful momentum vanishes. She gapes at me, her tiny features contorts into an expression that crushes the breath out of my lungs. 

It is a terrifying mixture of raw fear and unbridled loathing. I never knew a child so young could manage to display two such emotions at once until this moment. It distorts her innocent face into something unrecognizable.

"Lily," I mutter. I stretch a trembling hand out toward her. "Come to mummy."

She is holding a small bouquet of flowers close to her chest. She takes a step back, shrinking away from my reach as if my fingers are those of spiders, her most feared animal.

"No," she says, her small voice clear for all to hear. "You hate me."

I gasp, a spike of pain in chest. My brow furrows in confusion as I shake my head. 

"Lily, sweetie, I love you," I say, my voice shaking with desperation.

"No, you don't," she says coldly.

She turns her back on me and walks straight past my bed to Vivian’s side of the room. Vivian sits propped up in her bed, watching the scene unfold with satisfied fascination.

Lily looks up at her with adoring eyes and says, "Aunt Vivian loves me. But you give me bitter medicine all the time. A witch's medicine."

“No . . .” I gasp. 

The words are far more damaging than the bullet that tore through my skin. My stomach drops into a bottomless pit. 

I watch, paralyzed, as my own daughter gives Vivian a tight hug. She then lays the bouquet of fresh flowers gently into Vivian's waiting hand.

My sister beams down at her. She says with sweet affection, "Thanks, Lily. How sweet of you! Did you pick this out yourself?"

"Dad helped me pick them," she says proudly.

Vivian reaches out and gently ruffles Lily's short, sandy-colored hair, smoothing down the soft tufts. 

The familiarity between them feels like a jagged blade twisting in my gut. I look at Julian, searching his face for support, for a united front, for the husband who is supposed to stand by me. 

But he refuses to make eye contact. He looks away, pulls a plastic chair up to Vivian's bedside, and sits down without saying a word to me.

"Julian, our daughter . . ." I tremble as I force the words past the lump in my throat. "She just . . . aren't you going to scold her? She just called me a witch."

Vivian gasps dramatically from her pillows. She puts a hand over her chest as if she has been stricken by my request. 

"Trinity, come on," she says with fake gentle concern. "She's just a child. Give her a break."

Julian stares down at the floor, his jaw set tightly. "Of course she doesn't know it's medicine," he mutters coldly.

"Then tell her!" I urge, my voice rising in despair. "Correct her! I'm her mother, for God's sake!"

My broken heart finally gives out under the crushing weight of their indifference. Tears spill down my face, and I begin to cry softly, my chest heaving with deep sobs. 

This is not a new scenario between us, but tonight takes the cake. I have literally just survived a shooting. I am lying in a hospital bed with thread holding my flesh together, and I cannot even get an ounce of sympathy or love from my own daughter.

I look at Lily, who is still standing near Vivian. She stares back at me with so much hate in her eyes. It breaks me into pieces.

"Lily, I'm your mother," I sob, reaching into the empty space between us. "You have a . . . a . . . a sickness that—"

"Trinity, please," Julian cuts me off savagely and glares at me with fiery irritation. "Have some sense. Not here. Lily is just a child."

"But she needs to know that medicine is what's keeping her alive!" I reply hotly through the tears. "And if it isn't for me, she'd be . . ."

The word chokes in my throat. Julian glares at me with outright fury. 

"Say it, Trinity. Say it," he sneers with malice. "Tell the world without you, our daughter would be dead."

Lily gasps at her father's harsh tone, her wide eyes darting between us.

Julian gets off his chair and steps closer, relentless in his attack. 

"Why don't you tell her you're the one keeping her alive?" he growls, leaning down slightly so his words cut right into me. "You're keeping her alive with medicine you get from the black market. As if without you I can't get it too!"

My jaw drops in shock. 

"Julian," I gasp, my defense evaporating in sheer humiliation and shame. So I start begging like I always do: "Julian, please, I'm sorry . . ."

"No, don't be. You should leave us alone, Trinity," he snaps, his eyes cold and dark. "We are tired of your drama. Your presence is the ick!"

I gasp again, as though he has ripped my heart out with his bare hands. "You didn't . . ."

"Yes I did," he barks again, brutally cutting off any remaining shreds of my dignity. "I did. What are you going to do? Leave? Well, leave. I've told you countless times you can leave."

I can't hold back the flood of tears anymore. I bury my face partly in the thin blanket and sob softly as hot tears stream down my cheeks. 

They fall gently onto my full, broad cleavage that the oversized hospital dress couldn't hide. 

"In fact, if you want," Julian continues casually, sitting back in his chair as if we're discussing the weather, "I can have Keith bring the papers tonight and you can sign it."

Vivian chimes in softly, "Come on, Julian—"

"No, I'm tired of this shit," he throws his hands up, dismissing her feeble attempt at playing mediator.

Vivian sighs and lowers her head in a display of quiet sadness. But from my position on the bed, I can see right through the insincerity of her acting. 

She wants this outcome just as desperately as Julian does. She can't wait to get into bed with him—if they haven't been doing that already over the past four years while he and I have been married. 

I see the secret glances, the comfortable intimacy, the way she slides into the space that was supposed to be mine.

Lily looks up at her dad, and in a vulnerable tone, asks, "Dad, can I stop taking the bitter medicine?"

Julian's harsh expression instantly melts into a warm smile. "Oh, no, come on baby," he murmurs tenderly. He picks her up gently in his arms and places her comfortably on his lap, caressing her soft hair. "As soon as dad finds a better option, you'll get off the bitter medicine, okay?"

Lily nods and utters a sniffle. Beside them, Vivian is smiling warmly.

I lay back on the thin hospital pillow. I wipe my streaming eyes with the back of my hand. I allow a long sigh. My breath is coming out of my mouth in short spurts.

I need to end this misery, either by taking my own life, or taking charge of it. I've been putting the decision off. There's no better time. 

"Call him." 

The hospital room goes quiet.

"Trinity, did you say something?" Vivian asks. 

I lift my head from the pillow and look into Julian's cold eyes. 

"Call him," I say. "Call Keith. Tell him to bring the papers."

Julian’s eyebrows pull together in a frown. "Do you know what you're doing?" he asks suspiciously.

I push myself up to a sitting position, gritting my teeth as the movement tugs at the fresh stitches on my arm.

"Julian, I want to let you go. Call Keith."

Julian stares back at me for a long beat, his jaw tightening. "Suit yourself," he says and pulls his phone from his pocket.