The next day there was still no response. And the next. And the next. Time tumbled past, and Melinda did not answer me. I wrote again, trying for a formal, practical tone: When should I plan on coming back to continue work as her research assistant, to keep working on the book draft?
Nothing.
I went down to the bar and chatted with Jo every evening to keep myself sane—always wearing long sleeves and a scarf to hide my vampire marks—but I held back on drinking as much as I had that first night.
Janis too could tell something was wrong. She told me I sounded super depressed, and I couldn't disagree with her. We chatted over text once or twice a day, and the day before New Year's Eve, she seemed especially concerned.
"Hey, I can come back to campus if you need me to," she texted. "I rea
