I remembered the letter before Nathan finished explaining.<\/p>\n
Not every word.<\/p>\n
The act of writing it.<\/p>\n
I had been twenty years old, sitting cross-legged on the floor of my first apartment because my kitchen table was covered with wedding decorations.<\/p>\n
Jeremy had left less than an hour earlier.<\/p>\n
He had looked troubled.<\/p>\n
He tried to tell me something about Lacey.<\/p>\n
I had refused to hear it.<\/p>\n
Then, after he left, confidence turned into fear.<\/p>\n
I wrote him a letter.<\/p>\n
Not an apology.<\/p>\n
A confession.<\/p>\n
Jeremy stood beside me in the hospital hallway while I tried to remember.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did it say?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don't know exactly.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you give it to me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
His face changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, you didn't.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI put it in your mailbox.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI never got it.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach dropped.<\/p>\n
Nathan was still on the phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cJill?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI'm here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you remember the contents?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSome.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTell me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wrote that I was afraid.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf marrying me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf what you were trying to tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stared.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wrote that if there was still something between you and Lacey, I needed to know before the wedding.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy's face went white.<\/p>\n
I continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cI said I didn't want you because I'd won.\u201d<\/p>\n
The exact phrase returned suddenly.<\/p>\n
I don't want to be the woman you choose because the other door closed.<\/p>\n
My chest tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cI asked you to tell me everything before we married.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy leaned against the wall.<\/p>\n
\u201cI never got that letter.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nathan said, \u201cThe emails suggest Evelyn did.\u201d<\/p>\n
My anger came clean and immediate.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe don't know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy whispered, \u201cMy mailbox.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was still getting mail at Mom's house.\u201d<\/p>\n
Of course.<\/p>\n
Before we married, Jeremy lived in a small apartment above his father's old shop, but much of his mail still went to Evelyn's address.<\/p>\n
I had delivered the letter there because I knew he was eating dinner with his parents that night.<\/p>\n
I remembered slipping the envelope through the brass mail slot.<\/p>\n
His name on the front.<\/p>\n
No stamp.<\/p>\n
Nothing else.<\/p>\n
Evelyn had found it.<\/p>\n
Jeremy stared at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou gave me a chance.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTo tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n
His eyes filled.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor twenty-two years, I thought you didn't want to know.\u201d<\/p>\n
My anger sharpened.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd for twenty-two years, I thought you read that letter and decided there was nothing important enough to tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n
We stared at each other.<\/p>\n
The misunderstanding had shaped our marriage.<\/p>\n
Not created it.<\/p>\n
Not ruined every year.<\/p>\n
But planted something deep beneath it.<\/p>\n
Jeremy thought my silence meant permission.<\/p>\n
I thought his silence meant reassurance.<\/p>\n
Neither was true.<\/p>\n
Nathan said, \u201cCome to my office.\u201d<\/p>\n
We went.<\/p>\n
Emily joined us after Jeremy told her why.<\/p>\n
Thomas came too.<\/p>\n
Even Lacey insisted on joining by video.<\/p>\n
Nathan had printed the recovered emails in chronological order.<\/p>\n
The oldest was dated four days before our wedding.<\/p>\n
From Rebecca to Evelyn.<\/p>\n
Did you speak with Jill?<\/p>\n
Evelyn replied.<\/p>\n
No. She left something for Jeremy.<\/p>\n
The next email.<\/p>\n
What?<\/p>\n
A letter.<\/p>\n
Then Rebecca.<\/p>\n
You cannot let him read it before the wedding.<\/p>\n
Jeremy pushed his chair back.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would Rebecca care whether I married Jill?\u201d<\/p>\n
Nathan continued.<\/p>\n
Evelyn answered the question twenty-two years earlier.<\/p>\n
She is asking him to tell her the truth about Lacey.<\/p>\n
Lacey stared from the tablet.<\/p>\n
Jeremy whispered, \u201cJesus.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca's reply came minutes later.<\/p>\n
Then destroy it.<\/p>\n
Emily flinched.<\/p>\n
Thomas looked sick.<\/p>\n
Evelyn responded.<\/p>\n
I will not destroy Jill\u2019s words.<\/p>\n
Some tiny part of me was relieved.<\/p>\n
Not enough.<\/p>\n
Rebecca replied.<\/p>\n
Then hide it until after they are married.<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked toward me.<\/p>\n
I could barely breathe.<\/p>\n
Nathan turned the page.<\/p>\n
Evelyn wrote:<\/p>\n
If Jeremy tells Jill the truth now, he will confess the pregnancy, and Jill may leave.<\/p>\n
Rebecca answered:<\/p>\n
Then he will go back to Lacey.<\/p>\n
There it was.<\/p>\n
The women had treated Jeremy's future like a board game.<\/p>\n
Move Jill here.<\/p>\n
Keep Lacey there.<\/p>\n
Protect the adoption.<\/p>\n
Prevent the pieces from touching.<\/p>\n
Emily looked furious.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey did all this before I was even born.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d Nathan said.<\/p>\n
Thomas rubbed his forehead.<\/p>\n
\u201cRebecca was afraid if Jill left Jeremy, he\u2019d reunite with Lacey and discover the pregnancy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nathan nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat appears to be the logic.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lacey shook her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I had already left.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey didn't trust that it would stay that way.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy stared at the emails.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is Jill's letter?\u201d<\/p>\n
Nathan turned another page.<\/p>\n
The final message from Evelyn read:<\/p>\n
I put it with the other papers. One day I will return it.<\/p>\n
She never did.<\/p>\n
I looked at the sealed-box inventory.<\/p>\n
\u201cOther papers.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nathan followed my gaze.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere was no letter from you in Emily's box.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJeremy\u2019s envelope?\u201d<\/p>\n
He shook his head.<\/p>\n
Only the confession.<\/p>\n
The infant bracelet.<\/p>\n
The paternity test.<\/p>\n
No letter.<\/p>\n
Jeremy stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy old house.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe box Mom kept at home.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily remembered immediately.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said your cousin owns the house.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
She stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cCall him.\u201d<\/p>\n
This time nobody argued.<\/p>\n
Jeremy called his cousin Mark.<\/p>\n
The conversation lasted less than five minutes.<\/p>\n
Mark had remodeled much of Evelyn's old house but kept the attic storage.<\/p>\n
Several boxes remained untouched because Jeremy had told him years earlier to throw away whatever he wanted and Mark never got around to it.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan we come?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mark laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cAt this point I'm afraid to ask why.\u201d<\/p>\n
We drove there that evening.<\/p>\n
The house looked smaller than I remembered.<\/p>\n
White siding.<\/p>\n
Green shutters.<\/p>\n
A maple tree Jeremy's father had planted near the driveway.<\/p>\n
The porch light was the same.<\/p>\n
I had stood under that light at twenty, kissing Jeremy goodnight while Evelyn watched through the curtains.<\/p>\n
Now everything felt layered.<\/p>\n
The present house.<\/p>\n
The remembered house.<\/p>\n
The house where decisions about all of us had been made over coffee.<\/p>\n
Mark met us at the door.<\/p>\n
He was Jeremy's second cousin, a quiet man in his fifties.<\/p>\n
Emily came with Jeremy and me.<\/p>\n
Thomas chose to stay with Lacey.<\/p>\n
Nathan remained reachable by phone.<\/p>\n
The attic stairs pulled down from the hallway ceiling.<\/p>\n
Dust fell when Jeremy opened them.<\/p>\n
\u201cStay here,\u201d he told Emily.<\/p>\n
She looked at him.<\/p>\n
He corrected himself.<\/p>\n
\u201cOr come up if you want.\u201d<\/p>\n
She smiled faintly.<\/p>\n
\u201cBetter.\u201d<\/p>\n
The three of us climbed.<\/p>\n
The attic smelled of insulation, cardboard, and old wood.<\/p>\n
Boxes lined the eaves.<\/p>\n
CHRISTMAS.<\/p>\n
TAXES.<\/p>\n
LEE.<\/p>\n
EVELYN.<\/p>\n
Jeremy knelt beside the last one.<\/p>\n
His hands hesitated.<\/p>\n
I understood.<\/p>\n
Every container belonging to his mother had become dangerous.<\/p>\n
Emily crouched beside him.<\/p>\n
\u201cI'll open it.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy do you keep volunteering to open family trauma?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cApparently it's my hobby now.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy laughed softly.<\/p>\n
She cut the old tape.<\/p>\n
Inside were recipe books.<\/p>\n
Church programs.<\/p>\n
Funeral cards.<\/p>\n
A scarf.<\/p>\n
Then a metal cash box.<\/p>\n
Locked.<\/p>\n
Jeremy stared.<\/p>\n
\u201cI've seen that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMom's closet.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily lifted it.<\/p>\n
\u201cKey?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy searched the box.<\/p>\n
Nothing.<\/p>\n
I remembered Evelyn's kitchen junk drawer.<\/p>\n
Keys.<\/p>\n
Rubber bands.<\/p>\n
Dead batteries.<\/p>\n
One tiny brass key with red thread tied around it.<\/p>\n
\u201cWait.\u201d<\/p>\n
I climbed down.<\/p>\n
Mark let me search the old built-in cabinet he had preserved in the kitchen.<\/p>\n
The junk drawer was gone.<\/p>\n
But another drawer remained beneath it.<\/p>\n
Inside, beneath old instruction manuals, was a ring of keys.<\/p>\n
One had red thread.<\/p>\n
My heart pounded.<\/p>\n
I carried it upstairs.<\/p>\n
Jeremy stared.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow did you know?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother never threw away anything useful.\u201d<\/p>\n
The key fit.<\/p>\n
Emily turned it.<\/p>\n
The cash box opened.<\/p>\n
Inside were five envelopes.<\/p>\n
One had my name.<\/p>\n
My handwriting appeared beneath it because the original envelope had been placed inside a larger one.<\/p>\n
Jeremy sat back.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere.\u201d<\/p>\n
I picked it up.<\/p>\n
Still sealed.<\/p>\n
My twenty-year-old self had written his name across the front.<\/p>\n
JEREMY.<\/p>\n
Evelyn had never opened it.<\/p>\n
That surprised me.<\/p>\n
She had hidden it without reading.<\/p>\n
At least one boundary she had not crossed.<\/p>\n
I held the envelope toward Jeremy.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was yours.\u201d<\/p>\n
He shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was written to you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTwenty-two years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut you're the one who should decide now.\u201d<\/p>\n
I opened it.<\/p>\n
My old handwriting filled three pages.<\/p>\n
The first paragraph made me smile despite everything.<\/p>\n
Jeremy,<\/p>\n
You looked like somebody was taking you to court tonight, and then I acted like an idiot because I got scared.<\/p>\n
Emily smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat sounds like you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I read silently.<\/p>\n
Then aloud.<\/p>\n
You tried to tell me something about Lacey. I stopped you because I thought being cool about your past would make you love me more.<\/p>\n
Jeremy closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
I continued.<\/p>\n
That was stupid.<\/p>\n
Emily whispered, \u201cAlso sounds like you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I gave her a look.<\/p>\n
She grinned.<\/p>\n
The letter became more serious.<\/p>\n
I know you cared about her. Maybe you still do.<\/p>\n
If she is pregnant, if you owe her something, if there is any reason you think marrying me would make you abandon something you should face, tell me.<\/p>\n
Jeremy's face crumpled.<\/p>\n
I stopped reading.<\/p>\n
He looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut you guessed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI knew something was wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n
I continued.<\/p>\n
I would rather lose you before the wedding than spend the rest of my life wondering what truth you swallowed to keep me.<\/p>\n
Nobody spoke.<\/p>\n
Twenty-year-old Jill had understood the exact danger.<\/p>\n
And then Evelyn had taken away our chance to face it.<\/p>\n
Jeremy whispered, \u201cI'm sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor believing you didn't want the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou didn't know.\u201d<\/p>\n
This time I used the phrase.<\/p>\n
And it felt different.<\/p>\n
The letter ended:<\/p>\n
If you still want me after telling me everything, come tomorrow.<\/p>\n
If you don't come, I'll understand.<\/p>\n
I stared at the page.<\/p>\n
Jeremy whispered, \u201cI came.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
The next morning he had shown up with coffee and kissed me outside the courthouse where we picked up the marriage license.<\/p>\n
I had assumed that meant he read the letter.<\/p>\n
He had assumed my invitation required no confession.<\/p>\n
We had both walked into our marriage believing the other understood more than they did.<\/p>\n
Emily sat quietly.<\/p>\n
Then she said, \u201cThat's awful.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was.<\/p>\n
And somehow comforting.<\/p>\n
Because it meant the foundation of our marriage had contained not only deception.<\/p>\n
It had contained two people trying, badly, to tell the truth.<\/p>\n
I folded the letter.<\/p>\n
There were four envelopes left.<\/p>\n
One addressed to Lacey.<\/p>\n
One to Jeremy.<\/p>\n
One to Rebecca.<\/p>\n
One to Margaret.<\/p>\n
Jeremy opened his.<\/p>\n
Inside was a single page written after his father's death.<\/p>\n
I am going to tell you about Emily.<\/p>\n
That was all.<\/p>\n
Evelyn had planned it.<\/p>\n
Again.<\/p>\n
Then stopped.<\/p>\n
The envelope to Lacey contained an apology Evelyn never sent.<\/p>\n
Rebecca's envelope contained a demand.<\/p>\n
You must tell Thomas the truth before I do.<\/p>\n
Dated nine years after Emily's birth.<\/p>\n
Thomas had never been told.<\/p>\n
Rebecca had ignored it.<\/p>\n
Then Emily opened the envelope addressed to Margaret.<\/p>\n
Inside was not a letter.<\/p>\n
It was a copy of a check.<\/p>\n
Twenty-five thousand dollars.<\/p>\n
Paid by Rebecca Harper to Margaret Burcham.<\/p>\n
One month before Emily was born.<\/p>\n
Emily stared.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is this?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked at me.<\/p>\n
I looked at the date.<\/p>\n
The memo line said:<\/p>\n
Medical expenses and relocation.<\/p>\n
But nothing in this story remained simple enough to accept a label.<\/p>\n
Emily's face hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy grandmother took money?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy picked up the document.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe reimbursement.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n
I had no answer.<\/p>\n
Emily photographed it and sent the image to Nathan.<\/p>\n
His reply came quickly.<\/p>\n
Do not assume what it means. I\u2019ll trace it.<\/p>\n
Emily read the response aloud.<\/p>\n
Then she looked at us.<\/p>\n
\u201cTwenty-five thousand dollars in 2005.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy rubbed his forehead.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf Rebecca paid Margaret to arrange the adoption\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat would mean my grandmother didn't just want me gone.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her voice shook.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe sold the decision.\u201d<\/p>\n
I touched her arm.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe don't know that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut we're going to.\u201d<\/p>\n
The attic had grown dark around us.<\/p>\n
Jeremy turned on a small lamp.<\/p>\n
Its yellow light fell across the open cash box.<\/p>\n
Then I noticed something beneath the envelopes.<\/p>\n
A receipt.<\/p>\n
Safe-deposit box rental.<\/p>\n
Local bank.<\/p>\n
Evelyn Tolley.<\/p>\n
Active until the year she died.<\/p>\n
Jeremy frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cI closed Mom's bank accounts.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you ever open a safe-deposit box?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily took the receipt.<\/p>\n
There was a handwritten note on the back.<\/p>\n
If Margaret refuses to return the money, give this to Jeremy.<\/p>\n
Jeremy stared.<\/p>\n
\u201cReturn what money?\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily looked at the check again.<\/p>\n
The direction of the payment was Rebecca to Margaret.<\/p>\n
But Evelyn's note suggested Margaret had been holding money she was supposed to return.<\/p>\n
Maybe the check had not purchased an adoption.<\/p>\n
Maybe it had funded something else.<\/p>\n
Nathan called.<\/p>\n
Emily put him on speaker.<\/p>\n
\u201cI traced Rebecca's bank record.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe twenty-five thousand was withdrawn from a trust account.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhose trust?\u201d<\/p>\n
Nathan paused.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily's.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nobody moved.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe Harpers created an account in your name before you were born.\u201d<\/p>\n
Thomas clearly had not known.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n
Nathan continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd the money paid to Margaret came from that account.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily stared at the receipt.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was my money?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLegally, it appears it was intended for your benefit.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy give it to her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don't know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked at the safe-deposit slip.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut Mom did.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily nodded.<\/p>\n
Nathan said, \u201cThere may be bank records in that box.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe bank is still open.\u201d<\/p>\n
I checked the time.<\/p>\n
Barely.<\/p>\n
Emily picked up the receipt.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen we're going.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cTo the bank?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily, we don't even know if the box still exists.\u201d<\/p>\n
She met his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen let's stop assuming.\u201d<\/p>\n
Twenty minutes later, we stood inside the branch manager's office.<\/p>\n
The original box had been closed after Evelyn's death.<\/p>\n
Its unclaimed contents had been transferred to the state's abandoned-property division.<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked defeated.<\/p>\n
Then the manager added, \u201cThere is an inventory.\u201d<\/p>\n
He printed it.<\/p>\n
Three items.<\/p>\n
One sealed envelope.<\/p>\n
One bank statement.<\/p>\n
One audio cassette.<\/p>\n
Emily read the description.<\/p>\n
The envelope was labeled with Margaret Burcham's name.<\/p>\n
The bank statement covered the month before Emily's birth.<\/p>\n
And the cassette bore four handwritten words.<\/p>\n
Margaret telling the truth.<\/p>\n
Emily looked at Jeremy.<\/p>\n
Then at me.<\/p>\n
For twenty-two years, Evelyn had hidden evidence because she lacked the courage to use it.<\/p>\n
Now every piece she preserved was returning.<\/p>\n
And the next voice waiting for us belonged to the woman who had told Lacey her newborn daughter was dead.<\/p>\n
I remembered the letter before Nathan finished explaining. Not every word. The act of writing it. I had been twenty years old, sitting cross-legged on the floor of my first … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":7508,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7548","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-feel-every-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7548","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7548"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7548\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7639,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7548\/revisions\/7639"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/7508"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7548"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7548"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7548"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}