I never told my family I was the anonymous buyer behind the $200 million deal!

Years passed like mile markers on the road. Redwood Falls became a distant memory, one he only thought of late at night while parked at rest stops, engine idling and ticking as it cooled. He missed his mother’s cooking, the way she hummed without realizing it, and his father’s steady presence—never loud, never demanding, always there. Yet, he kept moving, convinced that motion was progress.

Then, on a cold winter morning, everything changed.

Matthew had just finished a delivery before dawn, the sky still dark and heavy with frost. As he sat in the truck’s cab, hands resting on the wheel, engine running, he wasn’t thinking of anything urgent—just a sudden, sharp ache for his mother’s voice. He remembered how she always ended their calls too quickly, as if she didn’t want to burden him, as if holding him longer might reveal something she’d worked hard to hide.

Without thinking, he turned the truck west.

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