In the quiet suburbs of Nesconset, Long Island, what began as a high school romance blossomed into a nightmare of possession and violence. On November 26, 2025 – the eve of both Thanksgiving and his 18th birthday – Austin Lynch, a promising Marine recruit, allegedly turned a shotgun on his ex-girlfriend, Emily Finn, in a calculated act of fury that prosecutors branded an “execution-style murder.” Finn, an 18-year-old aspiring ballet teacher and SUNY Oneonta freshman, had returned home for the holidays to return Lynch’s belongings and seek closure after ending their three-and-a-half-year relationship. Instead, she met a bullet in the back of her head, her car keys still clutched in her hand, purse at her feet, coat draped over her shoulders – frozen in the moment of escape.

The couple, who started dating at 14, once epitomized teenage bliss. Haunting prom photos capture them laughing, Lynch hoisting the graceful brunette off her feet amid magenta gowns and twinkling lights. But distance fractured their bond. Finn’s move to college for early childhood education studies clashed with Lynch’s enlistment in the Marines, slated for boot camp in February 2026. As Finn pulled away, Lynch spiraled into obsession. Friends described him as “possessive, accusatory, and overbearing,” bombarding her with incessant texts and calls. She blocked him, but the harassment escalated. In a series of chilling messages to a mutual friend between November 12 and 20, Lynch vented his venom: “I have set my mind on leaving this place the day before my 18th birthday. I f***ing hate her.” He plotted not just his end, but hers – loading exactly two shells into the family-owned shotgun, one for Finn, one for himself.

The botched murder-suicide unfolded around 9:50 a.m. Finn arrived at Lynch’s Shenandoah Boulevard North home for a face-to-face talk. As she turned to leave, he fired point-blank into her skull. Lynch then shot himself in the face, surviving with severe facial fractures, a cranial leak, and critical injuries that landed him at Stony Brook University Hospital. His parents discovered the horror upon returning home, calling 911 at 11:10 a.m. Finn was pronounced dead at the scene; Lynch, medically cleared days later, faced arraignment on December 4 in Suffolk County Court.

Charged as an adult with second-degree murder despite being 17 at the time, Lynch pleaded not guilty before Acting Supreme Court Justice Philip Goglas. Prosecutor Dena Rizopoulos painted a premeditated portrait: “The evidence indicates a clear intent to murder his ex-girlfriend.” District Attorney Raymond Tierney echoed the tragedy: “Emily Finn should still be alive and back at college. Instead, the defendant allegedly robbed her of that experience and her future.” Lynch, bandaged and remanded without bail, faces 25 years to life if convicted. His attorney, William Wexler, requested a psychiatric evaluation on December 10 to assess competency, hinting at defenses rooted in mental turmoil. Lynch is due back January 20, 2026.

Finn’s death has ravaged Long Island’s tight-knit communities. A Sayville High School 2025 graduate and American Ballet Studio prodigy, she was remembered as “generous and kind,” her warmth weaving into the lives of dancers, students, and friends. Pink ribbons adorned trees in Sayville; the high school held a moment of silence during a championship football game. A GoFundMe surged past $96,000 from 1,500 donors, while the Uvalde Foundation planted a memorial tree in her honor at Finger Lakes National Forest. Tributes flooded social media: “To know Emily is to love her – she became part of the fabric of the lives she touched.”

This case exposes the perils of unprocessed heartbreak in the digital age, where obsession festers unchecked. Lynch’s pre-shooting manifesto, uncovered on his phone, revealed a mind consumed by rejection, calling Finn a “whore” in a final rage-fueled call days before. As the courtroom fills with Finn’s supporters – pink ribbons and photos pinned to their hearts – the question lingers: Could warning signs have been heeded? Finn’s story, cut short at 18, demands reflection on youth violence, mental health, and the shadows lurking behind young love. Her legacy endures in pirouettes and pink, a beacon against the darkness that claimed her.