Chapter 3

Trinity's POV: Off To A New Start

"Viv, take Lily," Julian murmurs to my sisteras he turns away from me. "Wait for me outside."

She takes Lily gently by the hand, and guides my daughter toward the door. I watch their shadows retreat and I force my heart to stand still as they step out. 

As they leave, a cold certainty settles in my heart. There is no turning back now. The fragile bridge of our marriage hasn't just cracked, it has completely dissolved into dust.

The door opens again, and Keith walks in. He is holding a thick folder tucked under his arm, his suit immaculate. It hasn't even been an hour since Julian made the phone call. 

Keith showed up so fast it feels almost calculated, as though he was sitting in the parking lot all along, simply waiting for Julian to make that call.

I push myself up into a sitting position. Keith says, “Trinity.” 

“Keith.” 

He lays out the papers on the foldable table attached to my bed. 

"Pen?" I ask, emotionlessly.

Keith blinks, as if startled by my immediate directness. "Oh, I have one here," he says quickly. 

He reaches inside his suit pocket and pulls out a black fountain pen. He hands it over to me.

Julian’s demeanor has changed. The tense aura radiating off him is gone. He's now in a good mood. He stands near the window, leans against the sill, and begins whistling a tune under his breath: Mary On A Cross. 

I swallow. I have heard Vivian singing that song too.

I sigh and bring the tip of the pen down on the paper. Keith suddenly reaches out and grabs my hand before the nib touches the paper. 

"Trinity, you didn't read it," he says, his brow furrowing as he looks at me.

I frown a little and look up at Keith in confusion, and then down at the blurry dense text on the white pages. It hadn't even occurred to me to read it. What difference would words on a page make now?

"It's okay," I mutter, preparing to sign it anyway.

"Wait, Trinity," Keith stops me again, his voice carrying an undertone of concern. "You need to read what the agreement says, please."

I sigh and take a few moments to force myself through the fine print. Page after page details a complete and total surrender. Julian has not given me anything in this divorce. No settlement, no shared assets, no pack support. 

Nothing. 

Oddly enough, I don't feel the slightest anger at Julian for not giving me anything. Most of the rage and indignity have completely burned out of me, leaving behind a vast quiet.

I can feel Keith’s eyes on my face, searching for a reaction. Over by the window, Julian has stopped whistling his tune. He is watching me intently, perhaps waiting to see if I will fight.

"I don't want anything from him," I say quietly.

"Are you sure?” Keith asks. “You can contest the terms if you want to."

"No, I don't want anything," I insist. "It's fine."

I sign my name cleanly everywhere I am supposed to and hand the pen back. Keith picks up the documents and double-checks every signature. He looks up at Julian with a solemn expression. 

"It's done, Alpha."

Julian’s face brightens with a satisfied smile. "Great."

I lay back on the bed and shudder at what I just did. 

It's over. 

Everything we built, gone in a matter of minutes. I look at the bandaged wound on my arm. If it's over, and my injury is really just a scratch on my arm, why wait around in a hospital room?

I sit back up. "Keith, can you please get the doctor or nurse?"

Keith looks at my bandaged arm, his eyebrows pulling together. "You need something?"

"I need to leave." 

"Are you sure?" Keith asks, looking concerned. "That looks serious."

Julian checks his watch and walks to the door. "If we are done here, I'll be outside, Keith."

Keith looks at Julian, a subtle grimace on his face. Julian turns and leaves without a glance at me. Keith turns back to me, shaking his head. 

"I'm really sorry, Trinity. For everything. Is there a way I can help?"

I throw my legs off the bed, my bare feet on the cold floor as I think. I have no car and no money here. I'll need transportation to get home, pack my things, and then leave this place forever. 

I look up at the wall clock hanging near the door. It says it's almost ten at night. If I leave right now, I can catch a late train away from this territory.

"Can you take me to the train station?" I ask.

Keith looks surprised. "Like right now? From here?"

"I'll pick up my bag at home," I say.

A nurse comes in shortly after, checks my bandaged arm, and officially discharges me. When Keith and I walk out the front doors of the hospital, Julian isn't outside waiting. He has already gone.

I sigh and fight back the sadness. This is no time for falling apart. There will be a lot of time to do that later.

Keith drops me off at the mansion ten minutes later. "I'll be a minute," I tell him. He nods respectfully.

I go up the front steps and walk inside. Julian is sitting in the living room. Vivian is sitting on his lap, casually drinking a glass of red wine. Julian is on his phone. Neither says a word to me as I walk past. Lily must have gone to bed already.

I go to the master bedroom, pick up a small bag, and quickly stuff some undies in it and a few basic clothes. On my way out, I stop in the hallway outside my daughter's room. I contemplate going in to say goodbye to Lily. I change my mind. It will only cause more pain.

I walk past Julian and Vivian in the living room again. Neither says anything still, completely ignoring my presence.

Keith sees my small bag as I walk back out to his car and frowns. "That's all you are leaving with?"

I get into the passenger seat, and pull the door shut. "The train station, please."

Keith nods solemnly and drives off. Ten minutes later, we pull up to the train station. I get out of the car, clutching my tiny bag. 

"Thanks, Keith."

"Where are you going to go?" he asks.

I sigh and look at the quiet platform. "I don't know yet, but I'll figure something out."

Keith gives me a sad look. "Take care, Trinity."

I nod and slowly waddle off to the platform, every step heavy and terrifying. I find an empty bench under a dim light, sit down, and bury my face in my hands. The tears come quickly then, along with a suffocating loneliness.

After a moment passes, I force myself to stand up and walk over to the ticket office. The old man behind the counter looks up through the glass partition. 

He asks, "Where to?"

"Chicago."

The man taps his terminal and nods. "Chicago it is."

He issues me a ticket, and I hand over the little cash I have left. Shortly after, the late train arrives at the platform with a hiss of brakes, and I get on. 

Chicago is thirty minutes from here. I have cousins there, living in a pack called Goldrun. I have heard stories about the pack over the years, but I have never actually been there.

They say home is a place you go to and they have to take you in. I lean my head against the window, and pray these cousins will take me in.