Page 81 of Tanner

People moved around them. The board flicked and updated with a clicking sound that made Tanner’s whole body tense before he even looked.

Bay three. On time. Five minutes.

Savannah’s fingers tightened in his hoodie. “Home.”

Tanner could hear the plea in her voice now.

A man passed close enough that Tanner shifted immediately, turning Savannah’s body inward and pulling the bags tighter under his legs.

Tanner’s eyes kept moving. Who had looked too long. Who might be staff. Who might know him from town even if he didn’t know them. He kept picturing someone from the preschool coming in for a bus and stopping dead when they saw him with bags and Savannah crying. He pictured a phone lifted. A call made. Questions he couldn’t answer without sounding guilty.

He stood and adjusted Savannah who made a distressed sound. “No.”

“We’re getting ready.”

“For what?”

“The bus.”

She stared at him, then twisted to look out toward the bays. The bus rolled up outside with a hiss of brakes and Tanner’s pulse raced. People around him were moving to get on the bus. A line formed to get on the bus. Tanner picked up the bags in one hand, kept Savannah on his hip, and stared at the bus doors folding open.

Savannah started crying properly now. She buried her face in his neck and clung. “Home,” she sobbed.

Tanner swallowed so hard it hurt. “We can’t.”

“Why?”

A bus driver shouted something about boarding and the line moved forward. Somebody bumped Tanner’s elbow and apologized. He barely heard it. His eyes were locked on the open door of the bus. One step and they were on. One step and this part was done.

But he couldn’t move.

The panic that had driven him out of the house had changed. Back there it had hit hard and he’d reacted. Here it felt stupid while Savannah cried for the thing he’d taken her away from.

He turned slightly, like maybe he could sit back down. Like maybe he could—

Someone came in through the side entrance. Tanner saw him without meaning to. Dark jacket. Jeans. Steady walk. Hands empty. Eyes already on him.

Miles.

Everything in Tanner froze.

Not because Miles had done anything wrong, but because he was there. Some part of Tanner had hoped nobody would find them until he had enough time to make this feel like a plan instead of him running.

Savannah hiccupped against his shoulder and clung harder.

Miles didn’t rush him and he didn’t call out. He came close enough into the room that Tanner couldn’t miss him, then slowed.

Tanner’s grip tightened on the bag straps until it bit into his fingers.

He had to run.

The thought hit hard. But run where? Onto the bus? Back through the entrance? Past him? Through a station full of strangers while carrying Savannah and two bags and not enough cash?

Miles came closer, angling in from the side where Tanner could see him, and that detail caught his attention.

“Home,” Savannah whispered again, but this time it sounded worn out, almost defeated.

Tanner could feel Miles getting closer without looking. Could feel the pressure of his presence in the room.