Survive the Night by Riley Sager

INT. DORM ROOM—DAY

Charlie wakes up in bed.

Herbed.

The one in her dorm room at Olyphant. She knows this without even opening her eyes because of the way it sags in the center like a hammock, which always helped her sleep better even though it meant she’d wake with her lower back throbbing.

There’s no throb now, though. She feels like she’s floating. Not in the bed but slightly above it, hovering like Linda Blair in The Exorcist.

Someone else is there. Standing by the bed. Smelling like cigarette smoke and Chanel No. 5.

Maddy.

“Wakey wakey,” she says.

Charlie’s eyes flutter open as she takes in the welcome sight of her friend. Maddy’s wearing a Chanel suit. A classic. The kind Jackie Kennedy wore in Dallas, only hers is lime green and the fabric on the sleeve is pilled. In one white-gloved hand is a glass of champagne. The other holds a plate topped with a slice of cake.

“Happy birthday, Charlie.”

Maddy smiles.

Wide.

Her red lips curdle into a grimace that reveals a dark space where one of her canine teeth should be. It’s still bleeding—a steady trickle that overflows Maddy’s bottom lip and spills down her chin before dripping onto the cake in crimson dollops.