After the divorce, I was about to throw away my ex-wife’s old pillow—until I found what she had hidden inside and broke down in tears, finally understanding why she let me go.

I picked up the old pillow.
It felt strangely light—lighter than it should have been.

Yet something was wrong.
Not the lightness of worn cotton.
Not the familiar softness I’d known for years.

There was something solid inside.

I frowned.

I had touched that pillow countless times before, but only now did I notice it—maybe because this time my hands …

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