Chapter Twenty-Seven
M iles parked outside the family services building ten minutes early and switched off the engine. The place sat back from the road behind a low fence with a narrow strip of grass out front and a sign that had probably once been white. It was one of those buildings designed to look harmless.
Tanner sat beside him with both hands locked around a folder that held everything they’d managed to pull together.
Birth certificate. Clinic card. School forms. The photocopies TJ had told him to bring.
He hadn’t said much since they’d left the house.
Savannah was in the back in her car seat, swinging one foot and humming while she held her rabbit by one ear.
Miles glanced at Tanner. “You want another minute?”
Tanner stared through the windshield. “No.”
TJ pulled into the space beside them a few seconds later and got out with a folder under one arm.
He’d left the uniform jacket at the station on purpose and was wearing plain clothes instead.
Sheriff or not, the badge still sat on his belt.
Tanner noticed it the second TJ came into view and his grip on the papers tightened.
Miles got out and opened the back door for Savannah. “You ready, sweetheart?”
Savannah held up the rabbit. “He ready.”
Miles nodded. “Good.
She let him unclip her and slid into his arms without fuss. Tanner was already out by then, shutting his own door harder than he meant to. TJ came around the hood of his truck and slowed when he reached them.
“You alright?” TJ asked Tanner.
Tanner looked at him for a second. “No.”
TJ nodded. “You can do this.”
Miles shifted Savannah higher on his hip. “We going in?”
Tanner dragged a hand over his mouth and nodded.
In the waiting room, a receptionist sat behind glass tapping at a keyboard. She looked up when they came in and gave them the professional smile people give. “Can I help you?”
TJ stepped in before Tanner had to answer. “We’re here for the 2pm with Ms. Palmer.”
The woman checked the screen. “Tanner Fernsby?” Tanner nodded once. She looked at Savannah next, then back to the keyboard. “If you’d like to take a seat, she’ll be right out.”
Miles carried Savannah to the chairs and sat with her on his knee. Tanner took the seat beside him but stayed forward on the edge instead of sitting back. TJ sat on Tanner’s other side and put his folder on his lap. Nobody spoke for a minute.
Savannah leaned against Miles and whispered, “This doctor?”
“No,” Tanner said straight away.
Savannah tipped her head back to look at him. “School?”
“Not school either.”
She thought about that, then nodded as if that was enough.
Across the room, a toddler cried and the sound made Tanner jump.
“You don’t have to answer more than what’s asked,” Miles reminded him.
Tanner looked at him. “That’s not how this works.”
“It is today.”
The door beside reception opened and a woman in her forties stepped out holding a thin file. She looked at the room, found them, and crossed over. “Mr. Fernsby?”
Tanner stood. “Yeah.”
“I’m Rebecca Palmer.” She offered a hand. Tanner looked at it for a second, then shook it. “You can all come through.”
She led them down a short hall into a meeting room with a table, four chairs, and one smaller chair that had clearly been dragged in.
Miles put Savannah in the small chair beside him. She climbed straight back onto his lap instead and cuddled into him.
Rebecca sat opposite them and opened the file. “Before we start, I want to make something clear. This meeting is about getting a practical plan in place. It is not a removal meeting. No one is here to take Savannah from this room today.”
Tanner’s whole body had been braced since they walked in. The words didn’t relax him, but Miles saw the smallest change.
Rebecca noticed it too. “Good,” she said. “Then we can get to the useful part.”
TJ sat back but kept his focus on Tanner, not the worker.
Rebecca folded her hands on the file. “I’ve been given the basic background. You are Savannah’s older brother. You’ve been her primary carer since your parents died. You recently returned to Robinson, and there is not currently a formal guardianship order in place. Is that accurate?”
Tanner’s jaw tightened. “Yeah.”
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
“And Savannah is three.”
“Yeah.”
Rebecca nodded and made a note. Her tone remained professional. “The first thing you need to hear is this. Savannah can remain with you while the legal side is being addressed, provided you cooperate with the process and the immediate safeguarding basics are in place.”
Tanner’s fingers tightened on the folder in front of him. “Provided.”
“Yes,” Rebecca said. “Provided. Because from the point of view of the court and the department, you are an adult sibling caring for a minor child without formal authority. That is fixable.”
Savannah had started pulling one of the rabbit’s ears through her fingers. She looked from face to face without understanding much of it. Miles kept one hand spread over her back.
Rebecca continued. “You have three immediate priorities. One, medical registration. Two, stable childcare or preschool arrangement. Three, confirmation that the home is safe and suitable. Those are the non-negotiables.”
“I’ve got a house,” Tanner said, the words coming out sharper than he meant. “It’s mine.”
Rebecca nodded. “That helps. It doesn’t answer all three points by itself.”
Tanner looked ready to push back harder. Miles got there first, keeping his voice even. “The house has power, there is food, and the beds are in place. We’ve been working through the rest.”
Rebecca looked at him. “And you are?”
“Miles Owens.”
“I know your name from the note. I’d still prefer Mr. Fernsby answers for himself where he can.”
Miles nodded. “Fair.”
Rebecca turned back to Tanner. “Do you understand what I’m asking for?”
Tanner stared at the file in front of her, then at the wall behind her, then back at her face. “Doctor. Preschool. House.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve already been trying.”
“I can see that.” She tapped one of the papers. “You made preschool contact. You have some documents. You attended this meeting. That counts in your favor.” She paused. “But trying is not the same as completed.”
TJ spoke for the first time. “What’s the timeline?”
Rebecca looked at him. “We’ll schedule a case conference for later this week and a provisional family court filing as soon as the paperwork is prepared.
Given Savannah is settled with a sibling rather than a stranger placement, the court usually wants the legal route started quickly, and the day-to-day care kept stable where possible. ”
Tanner looked up sharply at the word placement. Savannah shifted against Miles at the same time, responding to the tension.
Rebecca didn’t back away from it. “I’m being direct because I’d rather you hear the real version in here than imagine something worse outside this room. No one is talking about moving her today. We are talking about formalizing what has already been happening.”
Tanner’s mouth opened, then shut again.
When he still didn’t speak, Miles said quietly, “Tanner.”
Tanner dragged in a breath. “If I sign things, that doesn’t mean I’m handing her over?”
Rebecca answered immediately. “No. It means you are starting the process to keep her with you lawfully.” Rebecca slid a paper across the table.
“This is consent for information sharing related to the court application and the home assessment. This one is confirmation that Savannah is currently residing with you. This one acknowledges you have been informed of the steps required.”
Tanner looked down at the stack like it might eat him alive.
Savannah leaned back and whispered to Miles, “Can we go now?”
“Soon,” he murmured.
Rebecca softened her voice slightly for the first time. “Mr. Fernsby, I know this is not how you wanted any of this to go, but signing these papers today is you protecting your position, not losing it.”
Tanner looked at the forms and still didn’t move.
Miles murmured, “Read them. One at a time.”
Tanner didn’t look at him. “I know how to read.”
“I know.”
Tanner pulled the first form closer and began to read it.
Miles watched his eyes move, watched him go back and reread one section twice.
Rebecca didn’t rush him. Even Savannah seemed to pick up that this mattered, because she stopped fidgeting and rested against Miles with the rabbit pinned between them.
Halfway through the second form Tanner stopped. His breathing changed. He stared at one line too long.
“What?” TJ asked.
Tanner’s jaw worked before he spoke. “It says follow-up home assessment.”
Rebecca nodded. “Yes.”
Tanner shoved the paper back a couple of inches. “No.”
Rebecca didn’t snatch the paper or lean forward. “The home assessment is not optional.”
“I said no.”
“Tanner,” Miles said.
“No.” Tanner looked at nobody now. “You come into the house, you start writing things down, then somebody decides what counts and what doesn’t.”
Rebecca spoke before Miles could. “Yes. I write things down. I write down whether she has food, a bed, heat, safe rooms, basic care, and a carer who meets her needs. Those notes are also what support you in court.”
Tanner’s laugh was short and rough. “Support.”
“You can hate the process,” Rebecca said. “But you still need it.”
Savannah stirred at the sound in Tanner’s voice and looked at him. “Tanny?”
He was breathing too fast now, and Miles could see the fear begin to build.
Miles shifted in his chair and kept his voice steady.
“Look at me.” Tanner didn’t. Miles tried again.
“Tanner.” This time Tanner did look at him, and there it was.
Fear with nowhere to go except anger. “We’re handling it,” Miles said.
Tanner stared at him. “One thing at a time. Today is papers. Later this week is the home visit. You’ve already got power on, food in, and beds for you both.
Cody and Orsen can help with anything else that needs doing before then. You are not walking into this alone.”
TJ nodded once beside Tanner. “He’s right.”
Tanner’s face tightened. “You both keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true,” TJ said.
Rebecca pushed the paper back within Tanner’s reach. “The home visit happens whether you sign that page angrily or calmly. The difference is whether you keep control of what comes next.”
Tanner scrubbed a hand over his mouth and looked at Savannah. She looked back at him with sleep-heavy eyes and no idea what anyone was deciding for her.
“Fine,” he said.
Rebecca slid him a pen. Tanner took it and sat there with it in his hand. Miles thought he might still walk. Might push the chair back, pick Savannah up, and head for the door, but Tanner bent and signed the first page. Then the second. Then the third.
When he finished, he dropped it down hard enough to make Savannah jump. Tanner noticed at once and reached for her without thinking. She left Miles and climbed onto his knee. He held her close with one arm and kept staring at the forms as Rebecca gathered them back into her file.
“There,” Rebecca said. “Now we have something to work with.”
Rebecca wrote down two times on a card and slid it across the table. “Case conference, Friday at eleven. Home assessment, tomorrow afternoon at two. I’ll also send the referral for the court application today.”
Tanner finally looked up. “Tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
His jaw clenched again, but this time he didn’t argue.
TJ picked up the card and looked at it. “We’ll be there.”
Rebecca nodded. “Good. Between now and then, I suggest you make sure the house is exactly how you want me to find it. Food in. Medication where it should be. Hazards dealt with. Nothing dramatic. Just ordinary care.”
Savannah tucked her face against Tanner’s chest. He kept one hand on the back of her head and didn’t look away from Rebecca. “She’s already looked after.”
Rebecca met his stare. “Then tomorrow is your chance to show that.”
The meeting ended a couple of minutes later. The papers were gathered, and next step already in motion whether Tanner liked it or not.
Back in the hall, Tanner stopped so suddenly TJ nearly walked into him. Savannah was limp against his shoulder now.
Tanner stared at the floor tiles for a second, then said, “I signed it.”
TJ answered first. “Yeah. You did good, Tanner.”
Tanner looked up, looking miserable. “I fucking signed it.”
Miles held his gaze. “Yeah.”
Tanner swallowed. His grip on Savannah tightened, then eased when she made a sleepy noise. “It feels like I’m handing her over.”
“You’re doing the right thing and you’re not alone. We’re here with you.”
Tanner looked at him for a minute. He didn’t look convinced, but he also didn’t run.