Going Dark, page 1
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Union Square & Co., LLC, is a subsidiary of Sterling Publishing Co., Inc.
Text © 2023 Melissa de la Cruz
Cover art © 2023 Union Square & Co., LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission from the publisher.
ISBN 978-1-4549-4764-6 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4549-4766-0 (e-book)
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: De la Cruz, Melissa, 1971- author.
Title: Going dark / by Melissa de la Cruz.
Description: New York : Union Square and Co., 2023. | Audience: Ages 14 and up. | Summary: When nineteen-year-old Josh returns from Rome without his budding influencer girlfriend Amelia, he immediately becomes a suspect in her disappearance, but as college sophomore and hacker Harper attempts to clear his name, she unearths secrets from both Josh and Amelia's past.
Identifiers: LCCN 2022037200 (print) | LCCN 2022037201 (ebook) | ISBN 9781454947646 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781454947653 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9781454947660 (epub)
Subjects: CYAC: Missing persons—Fiction. | Social media—Fiction. | Secrets—Fiction. | BISAC: YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Girls & Women | YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Social Themes / Prejudice & Racism | LCGFT: Novels.
Classification: LCC PZ7.D36967 Gn 2023 (print) | LCC PZ7.D36967 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022037200
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022037201
For information about custom editions, special sales, and premium purchases,
please contact specialsales@unionsquareandco.com.
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Cover design by Whitney Manger and Marcie Lawrence
Interior design by Marcie Lawrence
Cover art by Fatima Baig
For my dear friend and agent,
consigliere, therapist, producer, and more.
Man of many hats and talents,
Richard Abate
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Part 1: This Bird Has Flown
Chapter One: Josh
Chapter Two: Josh
Chapter Three: Josh
Chapter Four: Harper
Chapter Five: Josh
Chapter Six: Josh
Part 2: Terminally Online
Harper
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Part 3: Number-One Suspect
Chapter Eleven: Josh
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen: Josh
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen: Harper
Chapter Sixteen: Josh
Chapter Seventeen: Josh
Part 4: Girl, Gone
Chapter Eighteen: Mignon
Chapter Nineteen: Mignon
Chapter Twenty: Mignon
Chapter Twenty-One: Mignon
Part 5: Fault Lines
Chapter Twenty-Two: Amelia
Chapter Twenty-Three: Amelia
Chapter Twenty-Four: Amelia
Chapter Twenty-Five: Mignon
Chapter Twenty-Six: Amelia
Part 6: Revenge
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Harper
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Amelia
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Amelia
Chapter Thirty: Amelia
Chapter Thirty-One: Amelia
Chapter Thirty-Two: Amelia
Part 7: Ghosts
Chapter Thirty-Three: Amelia
Chapter Thirty-Four: Amelia
Chapter Thirty-Five: Harper
Chapter Thirty-Six: Amelia
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Harper
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Amelia
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Josh
Chapter Forty: Amelia
Chapter Forty-One: Josh
Chapter Forty-Two: Amelia
Part 8: Truth
Chapter Forty-Three: Harper
Chapter Forty-Four: Amelia
Chapter Forty-Five: Amelia
Chapter Forty-Six: Amelia
Acknowledgments
About the Author
PART 1
THIS BIRD HAS FLOWN
CHAPTER ONE
JOSH
The plane bucked with unexpected turbulence on its final descent, sending Josh’s stomach into his chest and causing him to grip the armrests so tightly his knuckles turned white. He’d finally dozed off while watching the in-flight movie when he’d been jolted awake by the sudden drop. Instinctively, he reached out to the seat next to him, only to find it empty. Of course, he’d forgotten. Amelia hadn’t boarded with him.
Gray clouds whizzed past Josh’s window, so thick he couldn’t even see the wing tip’s blinking light. The ground below was still shrouded in darkness, and he couldn’t see the city lights either. It was sometime past ten, and the sun had set, but his circadian rhythm was off. He’d been in Europe with his girlfriend Amelia for the past two weeks, and his body tried to tell him that it was sometime in the early morning so he couldn’t sleep. Besides, he’d never been an easy flier. The turbulence didn’t help. The midflight meal of an open-faced sandwich and tiramisu was starting to rebel in his stomach. He squeezed the armrests as the plane dipped again, making the cut on his palm sting. The pain helped distract from the nausea roiling in his gut every time the plane shimmied and shook.
The cut on his hand was fresh and surprisingly deep. He’d had to change the gauze during the flight but it had already soaked through. He regretted not going to the hospital to get stitches, but it was too late now. Whenever the cut stung, it reminded him of Amelia.
Every time he rested his phone in his palm to check for a text or picked up his bag to scroll through photos on his DSLR to look at her face, he recalled that the trip was over and she wasn’t there.
Movement across the aisle caught his eye. The pretty woman in 13F crossed herself with one hand while clutching her armrest with the other. She noticed him looking and smiled, the kind of smile that was nervous and a little embarrassed. Josh smiled back at the woman because it was the polite thing to do. She couldn’t have been much older than he was at nineteen, and guys who looked like him were used to pretty women smiling his way. Still, he wasn’t interested in taking advantage of the fact that his girlfriend had abandoned him in Rome.
He couldn’t believe Amelia had actually not shown, especially when she’d been the one who bought the tickets, booked their hotels, arranged their itinerary. Tickets to Europe weren’t cheap, especially since they were both college students.
Thoughts swirled in Josh’s gut, as sickening as turbulence. Were they really done? Was that it? Months of dating, over like that? He didn’t even know what he’d done wrong. It had been the perfect vacation, a literal dream come true with his dream girl. And now, all he had was an empty seat next to him.
It had been a miserable ten hours without Amelia.
At the Leonardo da Vinci International Airport in Rome, he’d gotten in line to check in, head on a swivel, expecting to see her rushing up behind him. While he stood in line, he held his phone tightly, waiting for something, anything—even a breakup voice mail. But nothing came.
When it was his turn at the check-in counter, the attendant took his boarding pass. He glanced around the concourse, hoping to see Amelia’s blond ponytail swinging behind her. She was obviously still mad at him, but she had time to board. He hadn’t worried, even then.
The attendant loaded his luggage onto the conveyor belt and it disappeared through the leather flaps into the bowels of the airport. To think, Amelia had packed his suitcase for him while he checked them out of the hotel. She’d tucked all of his souvenirs and clothes away, expertly folding everything with the skill of a veteran traveler so it all fit like Tetris pieces.
Josh sat in a row of chairs near the Four Winds counter, keeping an eye on the queue for Amelia. He waited. And waited. And waited. He passed the time by buying a small, personal-sized bottle of red wine from a vending machine, a novelty for an American visiting Rome for the first time. He downed the whole bottle before he realized it was gone. The wine was supposed to calm his nerves, but it only made his stomach full of acid and turned his tongue purple. The clock inched closer to departure time. Josh couldn’t wait for Amelia any longer.
He went through security with no problem and bought an overpriced cappuccino at an espresso cart. He wanted to get one last taste of an authentic Italian coffee before returning to the real world. Amelia had been the one to introduce him to espresso.
“Ess-presso, Josh. If you say ex-presso, I think an Italian person is legally allowed to kill you,” Amelia had said on their flight over, her eyes alight with teasing.
He drank his cappuccino as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, cycling through Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, over and over again, hoping to find any distraction, before inevitably opening his text conversation with Amelia only to close it again. An apology from her would have been nice, especially after all the things she’d screamed at him.
While he was in line to board, he got a text, but it was from his roommate Derek in California.
Boarding? Derek was
Yeah. Almost to my seat.
Get me anything?
Josh grinned and texted back, Absolutely nothing. Derek would know he was lying.
Josh had bought him two pairs of socks: one pair featuring the Vitruvian man and another with the pope’s face on them.
Asshole, texted Derek. Fly safe.
They’d been best friends since they’d met freshman year at San Diego State. Like Josh, he was an artist, specifically a painter, though his major was in finance. Derek and his girlfriend Tori were made for each other, and probably headed for the whole kids and white picket fence life.
Before, Josh could have imagined a similar future with Amelia. She was special, someone worth holding on to, keeping close. Now, all he had left were photographs on a camera and an empty seat beside him.
All his past relationships had been intense. He loved with his whole heart, but what he had with Amelia was different. She was everything.
A flight attendant made Josh switch off his phone for departure. Still no text from Amelia. Where was she? The engines had roared to life, and the plane vibrated beneath his shoes. Rome fell away as the plane took off and the seat next to him stayed empty. The acid from the cappuccino and the bottle of wine sat high in his stomach, but it was nothing compared to the anxiety swirling in his gut.
It hadn’t really set in, not until he was well over the Atlantic and they turned off the lights in the cabin for everyone to sleep. Were they over?
Unable to help himself, Josh purchased in-flight Wi-Fi. Amelia hadn’t posted on her social media, which was unusual for someone like Amelia Ashley, rising Instagram model and travel writer. No sad Insta stories about breaking up with her boyfriend while gazing at the Trevi Fountain, or some Roman ruin. She was an enigma in so many ways, even if her whole life was online. The Wi-Fi charges were starting to rack up, so Josh switched off his phone. There would be plenty of time to talk to Amelia later.
The selection of movies on the transatlantic flight was lackluster, but Josh picked one so he could at least get comfortable enough to try to get some sleep. He’d even popped a Xanax to help him get settled. Waiting for the pill to kick in, he scrolled his camera, only half-watching the movie, staring at the photos he’d taken of their trip.
Amelia was so beautiful. He could stare at her face all day.
It had started off like a perfect Roman Holiday, just like the movie with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck. One picture of her posing in front of the large windows overlooking the tarmac at the airport when they first arrived, another of her looking over her shoulder in front of the Colosseum, another of her grinning over her wineglass at a small restaurant where he’d had the best ravioli of his life, her high cheekbones illuminated softly in the candlelight.
The plane landed, tires thumping heavily on the tarmac at the San Diego International Airport. As it taxied up to the gate, Josh texted Derek that he’d landed and that he’d be home soon, but he didn’t expect a response. It was Friday night and he knew Derek was probably busy with Tori, letting off some steam before fall semester of their sophomore year started. Tori had become Josh and Derek’s pseudo-roommate because she stayed over all the time, but she didn’t pay rent. Josh didn’t mind though; it kept Derek happy and occupied and Josh enjoyed the apartment to himself when they were out most weekends.
Tori had been the one who’d introduced him and Amelia. He could still remember that feeling when he first saw her several months ago, as if she’d drawn him toward her by an invisible string around his neck. Tori had invited her to his birthday party, and the moment he saw Amelia, he knew she was the one. His last relationship had ended terribly, but Amelia made him realize he could love again.
Tori loved playing matchmaker. Of course, she’d been right. Amelia was perfect—everyone said so. Everyone loved her, but the best part was that Amelia loved him. His heart ached to hear her say it again.
The line of passengers moved down the aisle and Josh slipped on his Dodgers’ cap and triple-checked that he had his camera, his phone, his passport, and wallet all in his carry-on. He stayed for an extra minute to help a couple of elderly women get their bags down from the overhead bin. Their smiles were big, and their laughter girlish as he handed them their bags.
“Oh, thank you, young man!” one of the women said. Her glasses made her eyes look gigantic. “Chivalry still exists in this day and age. See, Flo? What a gentleman.”
“It’s no trouble at all, ma’am,” he said, with a wink.
The women giggled. He left, feeling better about finally being home.
At baggage claim, Josh stood at the carousel, waiting, as the final suitcase was picked up and carried off. He heaved a huge sigh.
His bag had not made the flight.
He went to the customer service area, where he joined a long line of annoyed travelers. Still no text from Amelia. He filled out the lost baggage form, circling what his bag looked like from a huge catalog of pictures. It used to be his father’s. It was an old-fashioned leather suitcase, covered in stickers, with a gold handle and clasps that always made him feel like an adventurer from the movies whenever he opened it. This was the first time he’d ever lost his bag on a flight, but, then again, he was aware that this kind of thing happened all the time. But the acid from his stomach had returned. He’d packed almost his entire wardrobe in that suitcase. What was he supposed to wear for the first week of class?
The night was warm and welcoming as Josh stepped out to the line of taxis ready to whisk travelers wherever they needed to go. It was hot but dry. California heat was different from the Roman kind. Rome’s felt older somehow, even though he knew it wasn’t really. It was thicker. Amelia had joked that she could eat the air like cotton candy when they first stepped outside after arriving.
Josh hailed a cab and got in, feeling adrift without his suitcase. He checked his phone again. Still not a word from Amelia. The last thing in their text conversation was one she’d sent before their trip:
Hotel Artemide
Via Nazionale, 22, 00184
It was the address of their hotel in Rome, in case one of them got lost. They could just hold up their phone to anyone who could help. She was always prepared that way, always thinking ahead. He liked that a lot about her.
He missed her. He wished things had gone differently, that he’d had her at his side on the trip home, falling asleep on his shoulder. That would have been a nice punctuation mark on the story of their trip. The vacation had been so much fun until it wasn’t . . .
Josh sighed. His pride told him not to, but he knew he should.
He started to type to tell her that he’d landed in California, but after a moment’s pause, he deleted his message, shoved his phone in his jacket pocket, and rested his head on the window. The glass felt cool on his forehead. When she was ready, Amelia would reach out to him. He knew there was no talking to her when she was angry, and by the looks of it, she was beyond reasoning with.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, as they said. And Josh was smart enough to know that him talking to her before she was ready was a recipe for disaster.
When the cab dropped him off at his apartment, a two-story complex of which he and Derek rented the bottom floor, he was semi-relieved he didn’t have to haul his huge suitcase inside. He was too tired to do much besides open the door and flick on the light. Derek’s cat, Munch, waddled over to greet him.
Immediately, Josh’s mood brightened. “Hey there, buddy-boy. Miss me?” He kneeled down and scratched Munch behind his black-and-white ears. Josh and Derek had rescued him from a shelter when they got their apartment. He was old and the shelter was ready to put him down, and their lease technically didn’t allow pets, but Derek convinced the landlord to let them keep him. “I bet I missed you more,” Josh said. Even though he was Derek’s cat, Josh was attached to him.
Besides Munch, the apartment was empty. Derek and Tori were probably at her place a block north, so Josh went to bed. He dumped his carry-on near his bedroom door and flopped backward onto his mattress, barely doing more than taking off his pants and shirt, shedding the gross international travel feeling. With Munch already asleep at his feet, Josh lay in the dark, staring at his phone, chewing on all the things he wanted to say to Amelia, before finally typing:
