by Riley Sager
It didn’t surprise Quincy when one of the newscasters mentioned her name. It was the first incident of its kind since Pine Cottage, after all. Her phone had buzzed all night with calls and texts from reporters.
At three in the morning, she switched off the TV. By five, she was at the airport. When the clock struck seven, she was in the air, heading to Modesto, pain from the tattoo still pulsing at her wrist.
• • •
Quincy waited for the press conference before sneaking into the hospital. The news vultures flapping near the front doors were too distracted by a progress report from Hayley’s doctors and parents to notice her rushing inside, hidden behind owl-eyed sunglasses picked up at an airport gift shop.
Inside, she had no trouble sweet-talking the motherly woman at the information desk into giving out Hayley’s room number.
“I’m her cousin,” Quincy told her. “Fresh off a plane from New York and dying to see her.”
Hayley’s hospital room was dim, solemn, and choked with flowers. Like a church sanctuary. Like Hayley was already in the process of being enshrined.
She was awake when Quincy entered, propped up on a pile of pillows. She was a plain-looking girl. Pretty, but no knockout. Straight brown hair and a pert little nose. In a crowd, she would have been easy to overlook.
Except for those eyes.
They’re what drew Quincy deeper into the room. As green and bright as emeralds, they flashed strength and intelligence, even in the midst of deep pain. Quincy saw a little bit of herself in those eyes. Tina too.
They were radiant.
“How are you feeling?” she asked as she approached the bed.
“I hurt,” Hayley said, her voice slurred slightly by that uneasy mix of fatigue, painkillers, and grief. “Everywhere.”
“That’s to be expected,” Quincy said. “But it will go away in time.”
Hayley’s eyes never left hers. “Who are you?” she asked.
“My name is Quincy Carpenter.”
“Why are you here?”
Quincy clasped one of Hayley’s hands and gave it a tender squeeze.
“I’m here,” she said, “to teach you how to be a Final Girl.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing a book is a solitary endeavor. Publishing one, on the other hand, is a team sport, and I feel blessed to be part of a brilliant, dedicated team that spans continents.
Thanks are due to my agent, Michelle Brower, whose enthusiasm for Final Girls helped me set a record for speed writing; Chelsey Heller, who got it into the hands of editors around the world; and everyone at Kuhn Projects and Zachary Shuster Harmsworth. Special thanks to Annie Hwang at Folio Literary Management, who took the first stab at my unwieldy first draft.
At Dutton, I must thank my amazing, awesome editor, Maya Ziv, who is never less than a delight to work with; Madeline Newquist, for keeping things running smoothly; Christopher Lin, for his amazing cover design; and Rachelle Mandik, for sparing me from much grammatical embarrassment. A big thank-you also goes out to everyone at my British publisher, Ebury, especially my editor, Emily Yau, whose unabashed excitement for this book was clear from the very start.
I also owe a huge thanks to fellow writers Hester Young, Carla Norton, and Sophie Littlefield for putting their stamp of approval on an earlier version of the book. Your support made all the difference.
Finally, I need to thank all the friends and family who offered me emotional support during the dark period in which Final Girls was written, especially Sarah Dutton. May your gingerbread houses always earn blue ribbons. As for you, Mike Livio, no amount of thanks would be enough. None of this would have been possible without your quiet strength and unflagging insistence that, yes, I could actually do this. So I have, and I owe it all to you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A native of Pennsylvania, Riley Sager is a writer, editor, and graphic designer. Riley now lives in Princeton, New Jersey.
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