In the early hours of Oct.14, 2025, 29-year-old Trinity Staten did what so many women in danger have done before her — she tried to leave. But the moment she stepped into a Lyft, hoping for safety, her attempt at freedom ended in tragedy.
Police say Staten, a beloved daughter, sister, and friend from Normandy, Missouri, was shot multiple times by her boyfriend, 31-year-old Jeremie Northcross, outside a Mobil gas station in St. Louis’s North Riverfront neighborhood. The violence unfolded around 2:20 a.m., moments after Staten had fled an escalating argument at home.
According to the St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department, Staten had ordered a Lyft to escape when Northcross followed her on a bicycle, circling the SUV twice before opening fire into the passenger side. The barrage of bullets tore through the car, striking Staten as the driver tried desperately to shield her.
In an act of extraordinary bravery, the unnamed Lyft driver sped away from the scene, racing toward the nearest hospital in a frantic bid to save her life. Staten was pronounced dead shortly after arrival.
Northcross was arrested minutes later, and police recovered a firearm from his nearby vehicle. After being read his Miranda rights, he allegedly confessed to the shooting, telling detectives he fired at the vehicle during the confrontation. He now faces charges of first-degree murder and armed criminal action and is being held without bond. He appeared in court on Wednesday, Oct. 22, 2025.
A Family Shattered
For Staten’s mother, Dominique Staten, the moment she saw her daughter in the morgue was both heartbreaking and surreal.
“She looked beautiful… like she was sleeping,” Dominique said through tears. “But this man crushed my life. He took a piece of my puzzle. I will never be the same.”
Trinity had just celebrated her 29th birthday five days earlier. Described as “the life of the party,” she was the type of woman who would “give you the shirt off her back” and “walk two miles so you wouldn’t have to.” Her mother said she dreamed of having children of her own one day ,a dream that died with her that night.
“She wanted kids, but she never got the chance because he took her from us,” Dominique said. “And it hurts so bad.”
‘She Loved Everybody’
During a balloon release held on October 16, friends and relatives gathered under gray skies near Staten’s home, their voices trembling as they chanted “Long live Trinity.” The scene was a heartbreaking mix of grief and gratitude — grief for the life stolen, and gratitude for the Lyft driver who refused to abandon her.
“Oh my God, I thank you so much, whoever you are,” Dominique said. “You didn’t know her, you didn’t have to do what you did, but you did. You tried to save my baby. If I could ever meet you, I’d just want to hug you and say thank you… because you could have left her.”
Trinity’s younger sister, Andrianna Jones, said her sister “loved everybody” and “took care of anybody.” Now, she’s channeling that same love into finding the driver who risked his life to help. The family is asking anyone with information to reach out to Jones directly at andrianna078@gmail.com.
Lyft issued a statement expressing devastation over the incident and commending the driver’s “quick and courageous response.” The company said it is cooperating with law enforcement and providing support to both the driver and the victim’s family.
The Hidden Epidemic
Staten’s murder is a chilling reminder of the deadly intersection between domestic violence and firearm access — an epidemic that continues to claim the lives of Black women at disproportionate rates.
According to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence, Black women are nearly three times more likely than white women to be killed by an intimate partner. Advocates say that lack of access to protective services, cultural stigma, and systemic inequities often trap women in unsafe relationships.
“This case underscores how leaving isn’t always the end — it can be the most dangerous moment,” one local advocate told reporters. “Trinity did what she was supposed to do. She left. And she still died.”
Dominique has now turned her heartbreak into a plea.
“When I say domestic violence is real, it’s real,” she said. “If you are ever in it, find a way to get out — please. Find safety. I don’t care if you have to call somebody to get you out. Find some way to get out.”
A Final Act of Courage
Even as the investigation continues, the search for the Lyft driver has become symbolic, a story of courage in the face of horror. For Trinity’s family, he represents the flicker of humanity that survived amid unspeakable violence.
“He didn’t know her, but he cared,” Andrianna said quietly. “He made sure she wasn’t alone.”
Staten’s family now hopes her death will spark renewed conversations about domestic violence prevention and the resources available to those trapped in dangerous relationships.
For now, they hold on to the memory of her laughter, her warmth, and her boundless generosity — and the belief that even in her final moments, Trinity Staten’s life inspired bravery in others.
If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence, help is available. Call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 (SAFE) or text START to 88788. In Missouri, reach ALIVE at 314-993-2777 or Turning Point at 888-873-7233. In an emergency, dial 911.
