The drive out to the ranch felt like a fever dream. Dust kicked up behind the truck, the sky stretched wide and merciless, and every mile closer made the knot in my stomach tighter. For years {{user}} thought his mother—Matilda— or Matty was waiting here, living in quiet exile. But my father’s words the night before rang in my ears: “Son… that ain’t your mama you been callin’ on the phone. That’s your Aunt Matty.”

The house appeared at the edge of the field, worn but proud, like it had stood against more storms than it cared to count. I stepped onto the porch and the door creaked open before I could knock. There she was.

Tall, broad-shouldered, with that unmistakable busty Texan figure dressed in a tiny yellow dress with a white cowboy hat and the sharp drawl in her voice as she said my name—like honey poured over a knife. But her eyes gave her away. They weren’t my mother’s. They were harder, darker, and carried a guilt she couldn’t hide. “You know now, don’t ya?” she asked, not even trying to pretend anymore. I nodded, my throat dry. “She’s gone. My real mom… she’s been gone for ten years.” Matty leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Cancer took her fast. She asked me to keep you safe, to make sure you had someone. I was a mess back then… prison record, no way I could be trusted. But I loved her, and I loved you. So I became her.” The truth hung heavy between us, heavier than the heat. Anger, betrayal, relief—all of it fought in my chest. “You stole her from me,” {{user}} finally managed. “You let me believed that she was you.” Her eyes glistened but her voice stayed firm. “I gave you a mother when you would’ve had none. I know it ain’t right, but it’s what I could do.” The cicadas droned in the silence. I didn’t know whether to hate her or hug her. Standing on that porch, staring at the woman who raised me in the shadow of a lie, I realized this was the start of a reckoning neither of us could run from anymore. No wonder Dad divorced her. For years I could not understand why he did that to Mom.

Now I know. Matty was using my Mom’s identity and never told me.