Chapter Eighteen
S avannah was on the floor with a coloring book and a box of crayons when the knock came. Tanner looked up from the sofa straight away, his hand tightening around the mug he hadn’t taken a drink from in ten minutes.
Nobody came to the door unless they wanted something. He already knew that much.
Savannah glanced up. “Someone there?”
“Yeah.” Tanner got to his feet. “Stay there a second.”
He crossed the living room quietly and looked through the window first. A woman stood on the porch with a folder tucked under one arm.
Mid-thirties maybe, with her hair pulled back.
Nothing about her looked threatening, which to Tanner somehow made it worse.
Beside her stood a man a little older, his expression blank.
Tanner didn’t open the door straight away.
The woman waited, then spoke through it. “Tanner Fernsby?”
He kept one hand on the knob. “Who’s asking?”
“My name’s Dana Holloway. I’m with Child Protective Services. This is my colleague, Mark Ellis. We’d like to speak with you for a few minutes, if that’s alright.”
His stomach dropped so hard he almost vomited. Behind him, Savannah had gone quiet.
Tanner opened the door just enough to block most of the gap with his body. “About what?”
Dana’s tone stayed calm. “About Savannah.”
He didn’t move.
Mark spoke then, quieter than Dana. “We’re not here to cause a scene. We just need to ask a few questions.”
Tanner knew better than to tell them no on the doorstep. If they pushed harder, if voices carried, if Savannah heard too much, it would only make things worse, so he stepped back.
Dana thanked him and came inside. Mark followed, looking around without being obvious about it. Tanner hated that more than if he’d been blatant. Savannah was still on the floor, watching all of them now with wide eyes.
Dana’s expression softened a little when she looked at her. “Hi, Savannah.”
Savannah pressed closer to the sofa and said nothing.
Tanner moved nearer to her without making it obvious. “You can sit there,” he said to Dana, nodding at the chair opposite his.
Dana sat. Mark stayed standing for a second, then took the other chair. Tanner remained on his feet until Savannah reached for his leg, then he sat beside her and rested a hand on her back.
Dana opened the folder. “We’ve had a report made about your current living arrangements with Savannah. We’re here to do an initial welfare check and establish some basic information.”
Tanner kept his face still. “What report?”
“I’m not able to discuss the source,” Dana said. “Right now I just need to ask you some questions.”
He already knew that meant she could discuss it. She just wasn’t going to.
“How long has Savannah been living with you?” Dana asked.
Tanner felt Savannah shift against his leg. “Since I left with her.”
Dana looked up. “How long ago was that?”
“Years.”
“How many?”
“Three.”
She wrote it down. “And during that time, who’s been legally responsible for her?”
Tanner’s jaw tightened. “Me.”
Dana held his gaze. “Do you have legal guardianship papers?”
“No.”
She wrote that down too. “Has Savannah been enrolled in school or daycare before now?” Dana asked.
“Not school. She’s too young.”
“Daycare?”
Tanner looked at the folder, not her. “I’ve been trying to get that sorted.”
Dana nodded once. “Has she seen a doctor regularly?”
“When I could get her seen.”
“When was the last time?”
He answered and Dana wrote that down as well.
Mark spoke this time. “Where does she sleep?”
Tanner looked at him. “In her room.”
“And you?”
“Mine.”
Mark glanced toward the stairs, then back at Tanner. “Can we see where she sleeps?”
Tanner’s whole body tightened before he could stop it and they must have noticed because Dana said, “We do need to check the space, Tanner.”
He wanted to tell them no. He wanted to stand up and block the stairs and ask if they were planning to count crayons and blankets next, but he did none of that.
He got to his feet. “Come on then.”
Savannah stood too fast and caught hold of his hand. Dana noticed and so did Mark. Of course they did.
Tanner led them upstairs then down the hall. Savannah’s room was small but tidy, her bed made, stuffed rabbit tucked under the blanket where she’d left it. Dana looked around without touching anything. Mark checked the window latch, glanced at the smoke alarm in the hall, then stepped back.
Back in the kitchen, Dana asked about food. Tanner opened the cupboard, then the fridge. Pasta, cereal, fruit, bread, milk, eggs. Enough for now. He saw her note that too.
“What’s your plan going forward?” she asked once they were seated again.
Tanner frowned. “My plan?”
“For Savannah’s care. Day-to-day, and longer term.”
He understood the question. He just didn’t like how it sounded. “My plan is to keep looking after her.”
Dana’s face didn’t change. “That’s not really specific enough.”
“She’s fed. She’s got clothes. She’s got somewhere to sleep.”
“Yes,” Dana said. “And we can see she’s cared for. But long term, she needs stability, education, medical care, and a legal guardian who can make decisions on her behalf.”
Tanner felt something harden in his chest. “I make decisions for her.”
“Not legally.”
Tanner lowered his voice. “She’s my sister.”
Dana nodded. “I understand.”
No, Tanner thought. You don’t.
Mark leaned forward a fraction. “We’re not saying this to upset her or you. But this situation does need to be formalized.”
Tanner looked between them. “And if I can’t?”
Dana answered that one. “Then we have to look at what’s in her best interests.”
There it was. He knew at some point this would be mentioned.
Dana must have seen something in him because her tone softened. “We’re not removing her today. This is an initial visit. But we will be following up. We need names, Tanner. Family, support, anyone involved with Savannah’s care. And we need to know what steps you’re taking.”
Tanner gave her as little as he could without making himself look worse. Names. Limited details. Enough to show she wasn’t alone with him in the world.
Dana wrote it all down and then she closed the folder. “We’ll be in contact again soon. In the meantime, if there’s any change in living arrangements, childcare, or schooling plans, you need to let us know.”
Tanner stood too. “Right.”
Tanner walked them to the door and Dana paused on the step. “She’s clearly attached to you,” she said quietly. “That matters. But attachment isn’t the only thing we look at.” Then she walked away.
Tanner shut the door and turned the lock harder than he needed to and for a second he just stood there with his hand still on it.
Savannah’s voice came small from behind him. “Are they gone?”
He turned back. “Yeah.”
She was by the sofa and her mouth had gone wobbly in a way that told him tears weren’t far off. Tanner crossed the room, crouched in front of her, and pulled her into him before she could ask the question she was really holding back.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded against his shoulder. Tanner knew that wasn’t true, but he didn’t say anything.
“No shouting,” she said after a moment.
“No.”
“Why they here?”
Tanner looked over her head at the wall. “Just asking questions.”
She pulled back enough to look at him. “About me?”
“Yeah.”
Her small fingers twisted into his shirt. “Did I do something bad?”
“No.” The word came out too fast. He gentled his voice and brushed hair back from her face. “No, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She leaned into him again. “Okay.”
Tanner stayed there on the floor with her longer than he meant to. Long enough for his legs to start aching.
Not today. That was what Dana had said. That should have reassured him, but it sounded like a countdown had started. He closed his eyes briefly and exhaled slowly.
Savannah shifted. “Can I have lunch now?”
Tanner opened his eyes. “Yeah.”
He got to his feet, brought her into the kitchen, and made lunch. Savannah sat at the table swinging her legs, talking about colors and rabbits and something Cody had said. Tanner answered when he had to. The rest of him was still back with Dana Holloway asking what his plan was.
His plan.
As if he hadn’t been living one every day for years.
By late afternoon he had everything back under control. Savannah had eaten. She’d colored. She’d watched a cartoon. Tanner had cleaned the kitchen twice without meaning to and checked the lock on the front door so many times he’d stopped counting.
When the knock came that evening, his whole body went cold. He was at the door before he even knew he’d moved. Miles stood on the step holding a takeout bag in one hand.
Not in uniform. Jeans, dark shirt, hair still damp from a shower, maybe. Just Miles, looking at Tanner carefully the second the door opened.
Tanner stared at him. For one stupid second he’d expected distance after what he’d told him. A few days of nothing while Miles decided what to do with everything Tanner had said.
“I brought food,” Miles said.
Tanner looked at the bag, then back at him. “You didn’t have to.”
“I know.”
From the living room Savannah called, “Who is it?”
Miles’ eyes flicked past Tanner toward the sound, then back. He didn’t try to step forward. He didn’t make any assumptions.
Tanner moved aside. “Come in.”
Miles stepped through and shut the door behind him. His gaze moved over Tanner and Tanner knew he looked rough. He hadn’t slept enough the night before, and whatever the CPS visit had done to him had left a mark.
Miles held up the bag a little. “Thought this might help.”
Tanner took it. “Thanks.”
He carried it through to the kitchen and put it on the table. Miles followed at an easy distance. Savannah also followed, giving Miles a small smile.
“Hi, Savannah,” Miles said.
She blinked at him, then looked at Tanner.
“It’s okay,” Tanner said quietly.
Tanner unpacked the food while Miles found plates without asking where they were. That should have felt too familiar, but it didn’t. It just felt helpful, and Tanner was too tired to fight that.
“You want me to fix her a plate?” Miles asked.
Tanner glanced at him. “You don’t have to.”
Miles gave him a look not that different from the one he’d given him the night before pizza. “I know.”
Tanner handed him the smaller plate.
Miles put a plate in front of Savannah, who now sat at the kitchen table. “Careful. It’s warm.”
Savannah looked at the food, then at him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She didn’t move closer to him, but she didn’t pull away either. She picked up her fork and started eating, sneaking little glances at Miles every now and then.
Tanner noticed all of it.
He sat at the table with his own food while Miles took the chair opposite. For a while the room stayed quiet except for Savannah’s cartoon from the living room and the scrape of forks against plates.
Miles looked at him. “You alright?”
“CPS came by today.”
Miles paused. “What happened?”
Tanner told him the basics. Miles didn’t interrupt him. When Tanner finished, Miles put his fork down. “They say they’re coming back?”
“Yeah.”
Tanner looked down at his plate. “They said they’re not removing her today.” The last word caught harsher than he meant it to. “Today.”
Miles was quiet for a second. “I’m sorry.”
Tanner shrugged a shoulder. He didn’t want sorry. Sorry didn’t solve anything.