Riley Sager didn't just pull the rug out from under me...he rolled me up in it. Oh, holy cow.
I'm suffering from a serious thriller hangover. Not enough sleep, too much caffeine, and pieces of my brain still stuck in an endless "Oh holy cow. Holy cow. WOW." loop. Riley Sager, I hope you're happy.
Final Girls doesn't waste time easing readers into the story. We open with a terrified young woman running for her life, the sole survivor of a massacre. Welcome to the world of the Final Girls, where surviving is apparently just the beginning of your problems.
Quincy Carpenter survived the horrific events at Pine Cottage, where a birthday celebration with college friends turned into a bloodbath. Years later, she's built a successful life as a baker and blogger, living with her defense attorney boyfriend, Jeff. She still keeps in touch with Coop, the police officer who rescued her that terrible night.
There are three known Final Girls: Quincy, Lisa Milner, and Samantha Boyd. Then Lisa dies, and suddenly Quincy's carefully constructed world starts coming apart.
Here's the problem: Quincy doesn't remember what happened at Pine Cottage. She suffers from dissociative amnesia, leaving a massive hole in her memory. She's tried to recover those memories, but nothing has worked. And as a reader, I kept wondering how much she actually remembered, how much she thought she remembered, and whether I could trust any of it. Enter Samantha Boyd, who apparently decided Quincy's life needed a complete renovation, preferably with a wrecking ball.
I didn't trust Samantha. Not one little bit. Yes, trauma affects people differently, and I tried to give her some grace. But she pushed Quincy into increasingly questionable behavior, and I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and tell her to leave the poor woman alone. Quincy had survived. She'd built a life. Maybe it wasn't perfect, but it was hers!
Jeff wasn't much help, either. He wasn't a bad guy, but his preferred method of dealing with Quincy's problems seemed to involve sweeping them under the nearest rug. And I had serious questions about how much attention he was paying to her increasingly unhealthy reliance on Xanax. Pretty soon, he was going to need wall-to-wall carpeting.
Sager alternates between present-day events and flashbacks to Pine Cottage, and the pacing is brilliant. The flashbacks become more frequent as Quincy's memories begin returning, gradually revealing pieces of that terrible night. Every answer seemed to raise another question. I suspected practically everyone at some point, including Quincy herself. And then came the ending.
OH. HOLY. COW.
I'm not telling you a thing. Not one little hint. Suffice it to say that my jaw hit the floor, my brain divided itself into warring factions, and I seriously considered sending Riley Sager a bill for emotional damages. I was played. Completely, thoroughly, magnificently played. The conclusion was both shocking and satisfying, bringing Quincy's journey full circle in a way that felt absolutely right.
Five stars, hands down. If you love psychological thrillers, unreliable memories, suspicious characters, and twists that leave you questioning your own intelligence, read this book. Just don't start it too close to bedtime.
Trust me. I have the caffeine consumption and sleep deprivation to prove it.



















