PART 3: THE SALUTE THAT GAVE HIM BACK HIS NAME
\n\u201cLet me hear her voice,\u201d I said.
\nThomas Vale laughed softly through the phone.
\n\u201cYou still give orders like someone is required to obey.\u201d
\n\u201cLet me hear Claire.\u201d
\nThere was a rustling sound, followed by a sharp breath.
\n\u201cJack?\u201d my sister whispered.
\n\u201cI\u2019m here.\u201d
\n\u201cDon\u2019t come. Whatever he wants, don\u2019t\u2014\u201d
\nHer voice disappeared beneath the sound of a struggle.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Then Vale returned.
\n\u201cYou have ninety minutes. Bring the key alone to the abandoned freight depot on Highway 41. If I see Mercer, the investigator, the police, or your newly commissioned daughter, your sister dies.\u201d
\nThe line went dead.
\nI lowered the phone.
\nEmma stepped toward me. \u201cWe\u2019re going to get her.\u201d
\n\u201cNo. You\u2019re staying here.\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019m an Army officer.\u201d
\n\u201cYou have been an Army officer for less than an hour.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd I\u2019m still your daughter.\u201d
\n\u201cThat is exactly why you\u2019re staying.\u201d
\nHer face tightened. \u201cYou hid your entire life from me because you thought you were protecting me. How did that work out?\u201d
\nThe question struck exactly where she intended it to.
\nI looked at her dress uniform, at the silver bars on her shoulders, and saw that I was still treating her like the little girl who used to fall asleep in my truck.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
But courage and experience were not the same thing.
\n\u201cYou don\u2019t know Vale,\u201d I said.
\n\u201cNeither do you. Not anymore.\u201d
\n\u201cShe\u2019s right,\u201d Owen said. \u201cThe man you knew has had twenty-five years to prepare for this.\u201d
\nGeneral Mercer reached for his phone.
\n\u201cWe can have a tactical team surrounding that depot in thirty minutes.\u201d
\n\u201cNo,\u201d Colonel Hayes said.
\nEvery face turned toward him.
\nHe pointed to the photograph on the table.
\n\u201cMy father knows how you operate. He\u2019ll expect surveillance. If he sees anything unusual, he\u2019ll kill the hostage and disappear.\u201d
\n\u201cYou sound very certain,\u201d Sloan said.
\nHayes looked at her. \u201cBecause I have spent the last eleven years helping him disappear.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Mercer moved toward him. \u201cExplain.\u201d
\nHayes removed his service cap and placed it beside the folder.
\n\u201cMy father contacted me when I was twenty-seven. Until then, I believed he had died honorably overseas. My mother raised me beneath a folded flag and a photograph of a hero who never existed.\u201d
\nHis voice remained controlled, but the muscles in his jaw tightened.
\n\u201cHe told me he had survived the helicopter crash. He claimed Master Sergeant Carter had betrayed the team and that powerful men were hunting him because he knew the truth. I believed him.\u201d
\nHis eyes met mine.
\n\u201cI helped him obtain documents. Money. Safe locations. When I finally realized he was lying, I was already compromised.\u201d
\n\u201cYou should have reported him,\u201d Emma said.
\n\u201cI tried. The officer I contacted was dead three days later.\u201d
\nThe room became silent.
\nHayes opened the classified folder.
\nInside were bank records, photographs, maps, and lists of names.
\n\u201cI began collecting evidence instead. Every transfer. Every alias. Every officer he bribed. Everything I could find without letting him know I had turned against him.\u201d
\nSloan flipped through the documents.
\n\u201cWhy bring this today?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause my father sent that photograph to me this morning. He told me Jack Carter would attend the ceremony and ordered me to recover the key.\u201d
\nI stared at him. \u201cHow did he know I would be here?\u201d
\nHayes looked toward Emma.
\n\u201cHe has been watching your daughter since she entered the academy.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
My hands curled into fists.
\nEmma\u2019s face did not change, but she moved closer to me.
\nMercer studied Hayes. \u201cWas your father responsible for reopening the report?\u201d
\n\u201cNo. I was.\u201d
\nSloan looked up sharply.
\nHayes nodded toward the folder. \u201cI sent the first documents anonymously. I hoped an official investigation would expose him before he discovered what I had done.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd now?\u201d I asked.
\n\u201cNow he knows.\u201d
\nI thought of Claire alone with Vale.
\nEvery second we spent talking was a second he could use against her.
\n\u201cThe key is not in Emma\u2019s music box,\u201d I said.
\nVale had been right about where I once hid it.
\nBut he was twenty-three years too late.
\nEmma looked at me. \u201cThen where is it?\u201d
\nI lifted my wrist.
\nEveryone stared at the leather band.
\nI unfastened it for the first time since the night my wife died.
\nBeneath the small metal plate engraved with Owen\u2019s name was a narrow brass key, flattened and sealed between two strips of leather.
\nOwen exhaled slowly.
\n\u201cYou wore it all this time?\u201d
\n\u201cI trusted the person who put it there.\u201d
\n\u201cWho?\u201d
\n\u201cMy wife.\u201d
\nEmma\u2019s eyes widened.
\n\u201cMom knew?\u201d
\n\u201cNot everything. But she knew enough.\u201d
\nI slid the key free.
\nIt was tiny, tarnished, and ordinary.
\nTwenty-five years of blood and silence had followed something that could disappear in the palm of my hand.
\n\u201cWhat does it open?\u201d Sloan asked.
\n\u201cA storage compartment at the old freight depot.\u201d
\nEmma stared at me. \u201cThe same depot where Vale is holding Aunt Claire?\u201d
\n\u201cHe chose that location because he knows what\u2019s there.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat is there?\u201d Mercer asked.
\n\u201cThe one thing I never told anyone I saved.\u201d
\nThe night in Kandar Valley returned in pieces.
\nBurning metal.
\nBroken radio transmissions.
\nMen shouting through smoke.
\nThomas Vale handing me coordinates that would have sent our rescue helicopter directly into an ambush.
\nAnd a pocket recorder taken from his command vehicle, containing every order he had issued before the attack.
\nI had hidden it after returning home because I knew the official investigation had already been corrupted.
\n\u201cThe original audio recording,\u201d I said. \u201cVale\u2019s voice. His orders. The names of the officers who helped him.\u201d
\nMercer stared at me. \u201cYou had proof?\u201d
\n\u201cI had a wife and an infant daughter. Vale knew where they slept.\u201d
\n\u201cYou could have come to me.\u201d
\n\u201cYou believed I was a traitor.\u201d
\nMercer lowered his eyes.
\nI turned to Hayes. \u201cYour father doesn\u2019t want the key. He wants me.\u201d
\n\u201cHe wants both.\u201d
\n\u201cThen we give him what he expects.\u201d
\nEmma shook her head. \u201cYou are not going alone.\u201d
\n\u201cYes, I am.\u201d
\n\u201cDad\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cListen to me.\u201d
\nMy voice came out harder than I intended.
\nShe went still.
\n\u201cI lost my team because I followed an order that felt wrong. I lost my name because I stayed silent when I should have fought. I will not lose you because I am too proud to admit that I\u2019m afraid.\u201d
\nHer expression softened.
\n\u201cI\u2019m afraid too,\u201d she said. \u201cBut you taught me that fear doesn\u2019t decide what we do next.\u201d
\n\u201cI never taught you that.\u201d
\n\u201cYes, you did. Every time you climbed back into that truck with your knee hurting. Every time you worked through the night to pay my tuition. Every time you showed up when you had every reason to quit.\u201d
\nShe placed her hand over mine.
\n\u201cYou taught me without telling me.\u201d
\nFor twenty-five years, I had believed the best thing I could give Emma was distance from the man I had once been.
\nStanding there, I finally understood that silence had not protected her.
\nIt had only prevented her from knowing me.
\n\u201cAll right,\u201d I said. \u201cBut you follow my instructions.\u201d
\nA faint smile touched her face. \u201cThat sounds more like my father.\u201d
\nWe developed the plan in twelve minutes.
\nMercer contacted a small federal response team through a secure channel. Sloan arranged unmarked vehicles. Hayes drew the depot\u2019s layout from memory.
\nThe building had once served as a transfer station for military freight before being abandoned. Rusted tracks ran behind it. Broken loading bays faced the highway. An underground maintenance tunnel connected the main warehouse to a drainage ditch half a mile away.
\nVale knew the place.
\nSo did I.
\nYears earlier, when I first began driving trucks, I had used the depot as a rest point. The storage compartment was hidden beneath the floor of an old dispatch office.
\nI would enter through the front with the key.
\nHayes would remain visible in the parking lot, pretending he had followed his father\u2019s orders.
\nMercer and Sloan would stay beyond the perimeter.
\nEmma and Owen were supposed to remain in the command vehicle.
\nEmma objected.
\nI refused to discuss it.
\nForty-three minutes later, the stadium, the cheering families, and the commissioning banners felt like another life.
\nThe abandoned depot rose beyond a field of dead grass, its roof sagging and its windows dark.
\nI parked my Freightliner near the entrance.
\nI had insisted on driving it.
\nVale expected the truck driver.
\nThat was the man I would give him.
\nBefore climbing down, I looked at Emma in the passenger seat.
\nShe had removed her dress jacket and covered her uniform with one of my old work coats.
\n\u201cYou stay in this cab,\u201d I said.
\n\u201cI heard the plan.\u201d
\n\u201cThat isn\u2019t a promise.\u201d
\nShe looked directly into my eyes. \u201cI promise I won\u2019t move unless something goes wrong.\u201d
\n\u201cSomething is already wrong.\u201d
\n\u201cThen I\u2019ll wait until it gets worse.\u201d
\nDespite everything, I almost smiled.
\nI reached into the storage pocket and pulled out the box containing her silver bars.
\n\u201cI wanted today to be different.\u201d
\n\u201cIt still can be.\u201d
\n\u201cI should have told you.\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cI thought if you knew what the Army took from me, you might hate it.\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t serve an institution because I think it is perfect. I serve because people need someone willing to make it better.\u201d
\nHer words sounded stronger than any speech delivered at the stadium.
\nI handed her the box.
\n\u201cThese belonged to your grandfather.\u201d
\nShe closed her fingers around it.
\n\u201cBring Aunt Claire back,\u201d she said. \u201cThen you can tell me everything.\u201d
\nI stepped out of the truck and walked toward the depot alone.
\nThe large metal door stood partly open.
\nInside, dust floated through narrow beams of sunlight. Broken pallets lay across the floor. Water dripped somewhere in the darkness.
\n\u201cVale!\u201d I called.
\nMy voice echoed.
\nA light switched on above the old dispatch office.
\nClaire sat in a wooden chair with her wrists bound. A strip of cloth covered her mouth.
\nThomas Vale stood behind her.
\nHe was older than in the photograph, with white hair and a deep scar running beneath his right ear. But his posture was unchanged.
\nSo was the coldness in his eyes.
\nHe held a pistol against Claire\u2019s shoulder.
\n\u201cMaster Sergeant Carter,\u201d he said. \u201cStill arriving exactly when everyone needs saving.\u201d
\n\u201cLet her go.\u201d
\n\u201cThe key.\u201d
\nI held it up.
\nHis eyes fixed on the brass.
\n\u201cYou could have destroyed it,\u201d he said.
\n\u201cI should have.\u201d
\n\u201cBut you needed the truth to exist somewhere. Even if you were too frightened to speak it.\u201d
\n\u201cI wasn\u2019t frightened for myself.\u201d
\n\u201cNo. You were frightened for your little girl.\u201d
\nHis smile widened.
\n\u201cYou should be.\u201d
\nI took one step forward.
\nThe pistol moved toward Claire\u2019s neck.
\n\u201cStop.\u201d
\nI stopped.
\n\u201cWhere is Colonel Hayes?\u201d he asked.
\n\u201cOutside.\u201d
\n\u201cMy son finally followed an order.\u201d
\n\u201cHe came because he wanted to watch you lose.\u201d
\nFor the first time, Vale\u2019s confidence flickered.
\n\u201cYou always did talk too much.\u201d
\n\u201cYou killed the men in that valley.\u201d
\n\u201cThey were soldiers. Soldiers die.\u201d
\n\u201cYou sold their position.\u201d
\n\u201cI made a decision.\u201d
\n\u201cYou took money.\u201d
\n\u201cI secured my future.\u201d
\nI glanced toward the dark corner above the office.
\nA small red light blinked.
\nCamera.
\nVale was recording the exchange.
\nMaybe he intended to make my death look like an attempted attack. Maybe he planned to force me to confess to the crime he had committed.
\nEither way, I needed him talking.
\n\u201cYou changed the extraction coordinates,\u201d I said.
\nHe shrugged. \u201cThe buyers needed time to remove the weapons convoy. Your team was supposed to disappear with the evidence.\u201d
\n\u201cBut we didn\u2019t.\u201d
\n\u201cBecause you refused to die when ordered.\u201d
\nClaire\u2019s eyes widened.
\nVale had just admitted it.
\nI hoped Sloan\u2019s equipment was receiving every word.
\n\u201cWhy frame me?\u201d
\n\u201cYou were convenient. A stubborn senior enlisted man with disciplinary complaints and no powerful family. People believe paperwork, Jack. They always have.\u201d
\n\u201cYou threatened my wife.\u201d
\n\u201cI gave her a choice.\u201d
\nMy blood turned cold. \u201cWhat choice?\u201d
\nVale smiled.
\n\u201cTo convince you to remain silent or watch Emma grow up without both parents.\u201d
\nFor years, I believed my wife had asked me to let the past go because she wanted peace.
\nNow I understood she had been carrying a threat alone.
\n\u201cShe never told me.\u201d
\n\u201cShe was smarter than you.\u201d
\nI moved before I realized it.
\nVale pressed the weapon against Claire\u2019s neck.
\n\u201cOne more step.\u201d
\nI froze.
\n\u201cOpen the compartment,\u201d he ordered.
\nThe dispatch office floor was covered in dirt and broken glass. I crossed to the old desk, knelt, and inserted the key into a nearly invisible lock beneath its metal frame.
\nThe mechanism resisted.
\nThen it clicked.
\nA section of the floor lifted.
\nInside was a narrow waterproof case.
\nI had not seen it in twenty-five years.
\n\u201cBring it to me,\u201d Vale said.
\nI removed the case.
\nIt felt heavier than I remembered.
\nI walked toward him slowly.
\nWhen I was six feet away, he ordered me to place it on the ground.
\nI obeyed.
\nHe forced Claire to stand and pushed her toward me.
\nFor one hopeful second, I thought he might keep his word.
\nThen the lights went out.
\nA gunshot exploded through the darkness.
\nClaire screamed.
\nI threw myself toward her and pulled her to the floor.
\nA second shot struck the wall above us.
\nFootsteps raced toward the rear exit.
\n\u201cStay down!\u201d I shouted.
\nEmergency lights flickered red along the walls.
\nI saw Vale running with the case.
\nThen a figure stepped from behind a row of freight containers.
\nEmma.
\nShe swung an iron hook into Vale\u2019s wrist.
\nThe pistol skidded across the concrete.
\nVale struck her across the face and sent her crashing against a pallet.
\n\u201cEmma!\u201d
\nI ran toward them, but my bad knee buckled.
\nVale recovered the gun.
\nHe pointed it at my daughter.
\nEverything slowed.
\nEmma lay on the ground, dazed but conscious.
\nVale\u2019s finger tightened around the trigger.
\nThen Colonel Hayes stepped through the doorway.
\nHis weapon was aimed at his father.
\n\u201cPut it down.\u201d
\nVale turned slightly.
\n\u201cMy son.\u201d
\n\u201cPut down the gun.\u201d
\n\u201cI did everything for you.\u201d
\n\u201cYou murdered people for money.\u201d
\n\u201cI built a life you could be proud of.\u201d
\n\u201cYou built it on graves.\u201d
\nVale laughed. \u201cDo you think they will forgive you? You protected me. You gave me documents. You are part of this.\u201d
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\nHayes kept the weapon steady.
\n\u201cAnd I will answer for it.\u201d
\nVale\u2019s face changed.
\nFor the first time, he looked old.
\nNot weak.
\nNot sorry.
\nJust empty.
\n\u201cI am your father,\u201d he said.
\nHayes\u2019 eyes filled, but his voice did not shake.
\n\u201cA father protects his child from his sins. He does not make his child carry them.\u201d
\nVale turned the pistol back toward Emma.
\nHayes fired.
\nThe shot struck Vale\u2019s shoulder and spun him to the floor.
\nFederal agents entered from both sides of the warehouse.
\nSloan reached Vale first and kicked the gun away.
\nMercer rushed to Emma.
\nI pushed myself upright and limped toward her.
\nShe was already sitting up.
\n\u201cI told you to stay in the truck,\u201d I said, breathless.
\n\u201cYou also said unless something went wrong.\u201d
\nDespite the blood at the corner of her lip, she smiled.
\nI pulled her into my arms.
\nFor the first time since she was a child, I held her without worrying that my past might touch her.
\nIt already had.
\nAnd she was stronger than the secrets I had built around her.
\nClaire was shaken but unharmed. The first gunshot had struck the chair as I pulled her away.
\nOwen entered with the medical team, limping almost as badly as I did.
\nThe waterproof case lay open on the floor.
\nInside was the recorder, the original radio logs, photographs, payment records, and a letter my wife had placed there years after I hid the evidence.
\nThe envelope had my name written across it.
\nI recognized her handwriting immediately.
\nMy hands trembled as I opened it.
\nJack,
\nIf you are reading this, the truth has finally found its way back to you.
\nI know you believe silence keeps us safe, but silence is only a room where fear grows without windows.
\nOne day, Emma will be old enough to understand that her father was never a coward and never a traitor.
\nWhen that day comes, tell her everything.
\nDo not let the worst night of your life erase all the good you did afterward.
\nYou came home.
\nYou raised our daughter.
\nYou kept your promises.
\nThat is also service.
\nThat is also courage.
\nI love you.
\nAnna.
\nI read the letter twice.
\nThen I handed it to Emma.
\nShe cried before reaching the second line.
\nThree months later, I stood inside a packed military hall wearing a suit Emma had chosen for me.
\nThomas Vale had survived and was awaiting trial on charges connected to treason, murder, kidnapping, and conspiracy. Several retired officials had been arrested. Colonel Hayes had surrendered his commission and agreed to testify.
\nOwen\u2019s death record had been corrected.
\nThe families of the men lost in Kandar Valley finally learned how their sons, husbands, and fathers had truly died.
\nAnd my own record no longer carried the word deserter.
\nIt carried the truth.
\nThe Army offered a private ceremony.
\nI refused.
\nThen Emma reminded me that the day was not only mine.
\nSo I stood beneath the flags while General Mercer read the citation.
\nHe spoke of a soldier who had crossed enemy fire repeatedly, carried wounded men to safety, prevented a second ambush, and sacrificed his reputation to protect his family.
\nI barely heard the words.
\nI was watching Emma in the front row.
\nShe wore her uniform.
\nHer bruises had healed.
\nHer silver bars caught the light.
\nWhen Mercer finished, he pinned the medal to my jacket.
\nThen he raised his hand and saluted me again.
\nThis time, no one saw a truck driver who had wandered into the wrong room.
\nThey saw Master Sergeant Jackson Carter.
\nBut the medal was not what made me straighten my shoulders.
\nIt was Emma.
\nShe stepped forward after the general lowered his hand.
\nProtocol said she should remain with the audience.
\nShe ignored it.
\nShe stood directly in front of me and saluted.
\nHer eyes filled with tears.
\n\u201cWelcome home, Master Sergeant.\u201d
\nMy vision blurred.
\nI returned her salute.
\n\u201cI\u2019ve been home for years, Lieutenant.\u201d
\nShe lowered her hand.
\n\u201cNo, Dad,\u201d she said softly. \u201cYou were surviving. Now you\u2019re home.\u201d
\nThen she wrapped her arms around me in front of everyone.
\nThe room rose to its feet.
\nThe applause sounded like thunder.
\nSix months later, I was back behind the wheel of my Freightliner.
\nPeople expected me to retire, write a book, or spend the rest of my life attending ceremonies.
\nBut I had roads left to drive.
\nOn the dashboard sat a photograph of Emma in uniform.
\nBeside it rested the medal.
\nI still wore the leather band, but the key was gone.
\nIn its place, I had added one new metal plate.
\nIt carried Anna\u2019s name.
\nEmma called as I crossed the Tennessee state line.
\n\u201cWhere are you?\u201d she asked.
\n\u201cAbout four hours away.\u201d
\n\u201cYou said that three hours ago.\u201d
\n\u201cTraffic.\u201d
\n\u201cDad.\u201d
\nI laughed. \u201cFine. I stopped for coffee.\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019re going to miss dinner.\u201d
\n\u201cI have never missed an important day.\u201d
\nThere was a pause.
\n\u201cI know,\u201d she said.
\nAnd this time, I knew she truly did.
\nAt sunset, I pulled into her driveway.
\nShe was waiting on the porch.
\nNo stadium.
\nNo generals.
\nNo cameras.
\nJust my daughter and a warm light glowing through the window.
\nI climbed down from the truck, my knee aching as it always did.
\nEmma came down the steps and hugged me.
\nBehind her, a framed copy of my corrected service record hung on the living-room wall.
\nBut beside it was something that mattered more.
\nA childhood drawing of a little girl sitting inside a blue truck with her father.
\nAcross the top, in crooked red letters, she had written:
\nMY DAD ALWAYS COMES HOME.
\nFor twenty-five years, I thought honor was something powerful men had stolen from me.
\nI was wrong.
\nHonor had been beside me all along\u2014in every mile I drove, every promise I kept, every sacrifice no one applauded, and every time my daughter looked toward the road knowing I would return.
\nThe Army gave me back my name.
\nThe general gave me back my salute.
\nBut Emma gave me back my life.
\nAnd as I stood beneath that porch light with my daughter\u2019s arms around me, I finally understood the truth my wife had tried to leave behind:
\nA uniform can tell the world that a person served.
\nA medal can tell the world that a person was brave.
\nBut neither one makes someone a hero.
\nA hero is the person who keeps coming home\u2014even after the world has done everything it can to make him disappear.
\nTHE END!!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
PART 3: THE SALUTE THAT GAVE HIM BACK HIS NAME \u201cLet me hear her voice,\u201d I said. Thomas Vale laughed softly through the phone. \u201cYou still give orders like someone … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5444,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7651","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7651","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7651"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7651\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7653,"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7651\/revisions\/7653"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/5444"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7651"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7651"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7651"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}