I thought the story ended at the lake.
\nI was wrong.
\nThree weeks after I placed my letter to Richard inside the wooden box, I received a phone call from a woman I\u2019d never met.
\n\u201cIs this Emily Bennett?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cMy name is Helen Ward. I\u2019m calling about Sarah Miller.\u201d
\nI stopped breathing.
\nAfter everything we\u2019d uncovered, hearing Sarah\u2019s name from a stranger still had the power to freeze me.
\n\u201cHow do you know Sarah?\u201d
\nThe woman hesitated.
\n\u201cBecause my mother knew her.\u201d
\nI sat down.
\n\u201cWho was your mother?\u201d
\n\u201cMargaret Bennett.\u201d
\nRichard\u2019s first wife.
\nFor several seconds, I genuinely thought I\u2019d misheard her.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s impossible.\u201d
\n\u201cI know how it sounds.\u201d
\n\u201cMargaret had three children.\u201d
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\n\u201cThomas, David, and\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019m not talking about them.\u201d
\nMy hand tightened around the phone.
\n\u201cWhat are you saying?\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019m saying Margaret Bennett was my biological mother.\u201d
\nThe room suddenly felt smaller.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cShe gave birth to me when she was seventeen. Years before she met Richard. I was adopted by another family.\u201d
\nI couldn\u2019t speak.
\nHelen continued.
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t learn who she was until after she died. By then, Richard wanted nothing to do with me.\u201d
\nThat didn\u2019t sound like the Richard I knew.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cHe refused to speak to you?\u201d
\n\u201cNot exactly.\u201d
\nHer voice softened.
\n\u201cHe met me once.\u201d
\n\u201cWhen?\u201d
\n\u201cFourteen years ago.\u201d
\nMy heart jumped.
\n\u201cWhat did he say?\u201d
\n\u201cHe told me some families survive because of what they remember. Others survive because of what they forget.\u201d
\nThat sounded exactly like Richard.
\n\u201cWhy are you calling me?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause yesterday I saw an article about the Sarah Miller Foundation.\u201d
\nI waited.
\n\u201cThe article included Sarah\u2019s photograph.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd?\u201d
\n\u201cI recognized her.\u201d
\nMy skin prickled.
\n\u201cFrom where?\u201d
\n\u201cMy mother\u2019s belongings.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I stood slowly.
\n\u201cMargaret\u2019s?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cWhen my adoptive parents died, they gave me a box containing everything Margaret had sent them over the years. Photographs. Birthday cards she never mailed. A few letters.\u201d
\nShe paused.
\n\u201cAnd one envelope with Sarah Miller\u2019s name on it.\u201d
\nI couldn\u2019t breathe.
\n\u201cWhat does the letter say?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d
\n\u201cYou haven\u2019t opened it?\u201d
\n\u201cIt isn\u2019t mine.\u201d
\nI closed my eyes.
\nAfter everything Richard had hidden, here was another sealed letter.
\nAnother dead woman\u2019s voice waiting decades to be heard.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Helen said, \u201cThere\u2019s something written on the front.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201c\u2018For Sarah. If I lose my courage again.’\u201d
\nMy stomach dropped.
\nMargaret had written Sarah a letter.
\nAnd never sent it.
\n\u201cWhen can I see it?\u201d
\n\u201cI was hoping you\u2019d ask.\u201d
\nThe next morning, Rebecca and I drove three hours to meet Helen.
\nI didn\u2019t tell Thomas.
\nNot yet.
\nI didn\u2019t know what the letter contained.
\nAnd after learning what had happened between him and Sarah when he was seventeen, I refused to drop another piece of the past onto him before I understood it myself.
\nHelen lived in a modest brick house surrounded by maple trees.
\nWhen she opened the door, I immediately understood why Richard had met her.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
She had Margaret\u2019s eyes.
\nI\u2019d seen enough old photographs to recognize them.
\nHelen looked at Rebecca.
\nHer expression changed.
\n\u201cYou look like her.\u201d
\nRebecca stiffened.
\n\u201cLike Margaret?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nHelen shook her head.
\n\u201cSarah.\u201d
\nRebecca\u2019s eyes filled instantly.
\nNobody had ever told her that before.
\nHelen invited us inside.
\nOn the dining table sat a faded cardboard box.
\n\u201cThis is everything I have.\u201d
\nShe lifted out several photographs.
\nMargaret as a teenager.
\nMargaret holding a newborn baby.
\nMargaret standing outside a hospital.
\nThen Helen placed the unopened envelope on the table.
\nThe paper had yellowed.
\nSARAH MILLER was written across the front.
\nRebecca stared at it.
\n\u201cDo you want me to open it?\u201d I asked.
\nShe shook her head.
\n\u201cShe\u2019s my mother.\u201d
\nI slid the envelope toward her.
\n\u201cThen it should be you.\u201d
\nRebecca\u2019s hands trembled as she broke the seal.
\nInside were four pages.
\nShe began reading silently.
\nThen stopped.
\nHer face drained of color.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
She looked at Helen.
\nThen at me.
\n\u201cI think we misunderstood what happened the night my mother died.\u201d
\nMy stomach tightened.
\nRebecca handed me the letter.
\nThe first line read:
\n\u201cSarah,
\nI owe you an apology that I have been too jealous and too ashamed to give you.\u201d
\nI continued.
\n\u201cI spent years resenting you because Richard trusted you in ways he never trusted me.
\nI convinced myself you wanted my husband, my home, and my place in this family.
\nNow I know that wasn\u2019t true.\u201d
\nMy chest tightened.
\nThe next paragraph was worse.
\n\u201cI found the documents.
\nI know where Richard\u2019s first investment really came from.
\nI know you sold your mother\u2019s jewelry to save his company.
\nAnd I know Richard allowed everyone to believe the money came from my father.\u201d
\nI looked at Rebecca.
\nRichard had hidden even more than he\u2019d admitted.
\nMargaret continued:
\n\u201cI also know about Thomas.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Rebecca turned away.
\nI kept reading.
\n\u201cI found you crying in the laundry room after Thomas came home from school that summer.
\nYou told me nothing had happened.
\nI wanted to believe you because believing you meant I didn\u2019t have to ask what my son was doing with an adult woman.\u201d
\nThe words were painful.
\nNot because they were dramatic.
\nBecause they were devastatingly plain.
\nThen came the sentence that changed everything.
\n\u201cI blamed you because blaming you was easier than admitting I had failed to see my own child was in a situation he could not understand.\u201d
\nRebecca covered her mouth.
\nHelen whispered, \u201cOh my God.\u201d
\nThe letter continued.
\n\u201cThomas was seventeen.
\nYou were twenty-nine.
\nWhatever you believed you felt for him, he was still a boy.
\nI should have protected him.
\nRichard should have protected him.
\nAnd you should have known better.\u201d
\nNobody spoke.
\nThere was no easy villain in that room.
\nOnly adults who had failed a teenager, and a truth that had been buried until everyone involved had spent decades living inside its consequences.
\nThen I reached the final page.
\nIt was dated the same day Sarah died.
\n\u201cTonight I am going to speak to you.
\nNot as Richard\u2019s wife.
\nNot as Thomas\u2019s mother.
\nWoman to woman.
\nI want you to tell Rebecca the truth about her father when she is old enough.
\nBut I will not allow Thomas to carry responsibility for choices you made when he was still a child.
\nIf we argue, I will try to remember that anger is not justice.
\nIf I lose my courage again, I will give you this letter tomorrow.\u201d
\nThere was no tomorrow.
\nI lowered the pages.
\nRebecca stared out the window.
\n\u201cSo Margaret really did confront her.\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cBut this doesn\u2019t tell us whether she pushed her.\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nHelen reached into the cardboard box.
\n\u201cThere\u2019s something else.\u201d
\nShe removed a small cassette tape.
\nWritten on its label were two words:
\nOCTOBER 1989.
\nMy heart began pounding.
\n\u201cWhere did you get that?\u201d
\n\u201cIt was inside the envelope.\u201d
\nRebecca turned around.
\n\u201cA recording?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d
\nHelen brought out an old cassette player.
\n\u201cI found this last night, but I couldn\u2019t make myself listen.\u201d
\nShe placed the tape inside.
\nNobody moved.
\nThen Rebecca reached forward.
\n\u201cPlay it.\u201d
\nHelen pressed the button.
\nStatic filled the room.
\nFor several seconds, nothing happened.
\nThen we heard Margaret\u2019s voice.
\nYounger.
\nShaking.
\n\u201cRichard told me recording difficult conversations might keep me from saying things I regret.\u201d
\nRebecca grabbed my hand.
\nFootsteps sounded on the tape.
\nThen a door opened.
\nA woman\u2019s voice spoke.
\nSarah.
\n\u201cWhat are you doing here, Margaret?\u201d
\nRebecca began crying immediately.
\nShe had waited more than forty years to hear her mother\u2019s voice.
\nMargaret answered:
\n\u201cWe need to talk about Thomas.\u201d
\nSilence.
\nThen Sarah said:
\n\u201cThere\u2019s nothing to discuss.\u201d
\n\u201cHe\u2019s seventeen.\u201d
\n\u201cI know how old he is.\u201d
\n\u201cThen why?\u201d
\nThe recording went quiet for several seconds.
\nWhen Sarah finally answered, her voice had changed.
\n\u201cI made a mistake.\u201d
\n\u201cA mistake?\u201d
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\n\u201cDoes Richard know?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cDoes Thomas understand what\u2019s happening?\u201d
\nSarah started crying.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nRebecca closed her eyes.
\nMargaret\u2019s voice became softer.
\n\u201cThen this ends tonight.\u201d
\n\u201cIt already ended.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd Rebecca?\u201d
\nSarah said nothing.
\nMargaret asked again.
\n\u201cIs Thomas her father?\u201d
\nA long silence.
\nThen Sarah whispered:
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\nRebecca\u2019s fingers dug into mine.
\nFor forty-two years, she\u2019d wanted certainty.
\nNow she had it.
\nBut the recording continued.
\nMargaret said:
\n\u201cYou\u2019re going to tell Richard.\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cYou have to.\u201d
\n\u201cIf Richard finds out, he\u2019ll hate me.\u201d
\n\u201cMaybe.\u201d
\n\u201cHe\u2019ll take Rebecca away.\u201d
\n\u201cNo one is taking your daughter.\u201d
\n\u201cYou don\u2019t know that.\u201d
\n\u201cI do.\u201d
\nThen Sarah said something none of us expected.
\n\u201cRichard already offered to adopt her.\u201d
\nMargaret went silent.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cHe doesn\u2019t know who her father is. But he knows I\u2019m struggling. He said Rebecca deserves stability.\u201d
\nThe pieces suddenly shifted.
\nRichard hadn\u2019t adopted Rebecca only because Sarah died.
\nHe had already intended to help her.
\nThen Sarah\u2019s voice rose.
\n\u201cYou\u2019ve always hated me.\u201d
\n\u201cI was jealous of you.\u201d
\n\u201cSame thing.\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nMargaret sounded exhausted.
\n\u201cI thought Richard loved you.\u201d
\n\u201cHe didn\u2019t.\u201d
\n\u201cI know that now.\u201d
\n\u201cYou treated me like dirt for years.\u201d
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy should I trust you?\u201d
\n\u201cYou shouldn\u2019t.\u201d
\nA pause.
\n\u201cNot yet.\u201d
\nThen we heard movement.
\nA chair scraping.
\nSarah said:
\n\u201cGet out.\u201d
\nMargaret replied:
\n\u201cI\u2019m not leaving until you promise Thomas is safe.\u201d
\n\u201cSafe from what?\u201d
\n\u201cYou.\u201d
\nThe next sound happened quickly.
\nA chair fell.
\nSarah shouted.
\nMargaret screamed:
\n\u201cSarah!\u201d
\nThen came a terrible crash.
\nRebecca jerked away from the table.
\nThe recording became chaotic.
\nFootsteps.
\nMargaret sobbing.
\n\u201cSarah! Oh God. Sarah!\u201d
\nThen another voice appeared.
\nA man\u2019s voice.
\nYoung.
\nPanicked.
\n\u201cWhat happened?\u201d
\nThomas.
\nRebecca froze.
\nMargaret shouted:
\n\u201cCall an ambulance!\u201d
\n\u201cMom, what happened?\u201d
\n\u201cShe fell!\u201d
\n\u201cWhere\u2019s Rebecca?\u201d
\n\u201cUpstairs. Call an ambulance!\u201d
\nThen Thomas said something that made every hair on my arms rise.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nMargaret screamed:
\n\u201cWhat do you mean, no?\u201d
\n\u201cShe\u2019s breathing.\u201d
\n\u201cThen call!\u201d
\n\u201cI can\u2019t.\u201d
\n\u201cThomas!\u201d
\nAnd then he said:
\n\u201cIf she wakes up, she\u2019s going to tell Dad.\u201d
\nThe room around us seemed to stop.
\nRebecca stared at the cassette player.
\nMargaret\u2019s voice on the tape became almost unrecognizable.
\n\u201cI don\u2019t care what she tells anyone! CALL AN AMBULANCE!\u201d
\nThen Thomas started crying.
\n\u201cI\u2019ll lose everything.\u201d
\n\u201cYou are seventeen years old!\u201d
\n\u201cMom\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cCALL!\u201d
\nThere was movement.
\nThen the sound of a telephone being picked up.
\nThe recording ended.
\nNobody spoke.
\nThe silence afterward was worse than the tape.
\nRebecca slowly sat down.
\n\u201cMy mother didn\u2019t die immediately.\u201d
\nI didn\u2019t know what to say.
\nHelen looked sick.
\n\u201cMargaret tried to call for help.\u201d
\nRebecca nodded.
\n\u201cAnd Thomas hesitated.\u201d
\nFor the first time since discovering the truth, Rebecca looked angry.
\nNot confused.
\nNot frightened.
\nAngry.
\n\u201cHe knew she was alive.\u201d
\nI squeezed her hand.
\n\u201cHe was seventeen, Rebecca.\u201d
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd terrified.\u201d
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\n\u201cBut that doesn\u2019t erase what happened.\u201d
\nShe looked directly at me.
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\nThose two words mattered.
\nBecause our family had spent decades making the same mistake.
\nEither someone was innocent or evil.
\nVictim or villain.
\nWorth protecting or worth destroying.
\nBut real lives weren\u2019t that simple.
\nThomas had been a minor in a relationship with an adult.
\nHe had also hesitated while that same woman lay injured.
\nBoth things could be true.
\nHis victimhood did not make every later choice harmless.
\nHis later mistake did not erase what had been done to him.
\nThe truth wasn\u2019t clean.
\nIt was simply true.
\nThen Helen spoke.
\n\u201cThere\u2019s one more thing you should know.\u201d
\nI looked at her.
\n\u201cWhen Richard met me fourteen years ago, he asked me a strange question.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cHe asked whether Margaret had ever sent me anything recorded.\u201d
\nMy stomach dropped.
\n\u201cHe knew about the tape?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t think so. But I think he suspected it existed.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy wouldn\u2019t he search for it?\u201d
\nHelen looked at me sadly.
\n\u201cMaybe he did.\u201d
\nThat night, Rebecca and I drove home without turning on the radio.
\nAbout halfway back, she finally spoke.
\n\u201cI\u2019m going to tell Thomas.\u201d
\n\u201cAre you sure?\u201d
\n\u201cHe deserves to know the recording exists.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd then?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d
\nShe looked out the window.
\n\u201cBut I don\u2019t want another generation of this family deciding that silence is kindness.\u201d
\nThe next afternoon, Thomas came to my house.
\nHe looked ten years older than he had at the courthouse.
\nRebecca placed the cassette player on the table.
\nHis face changed immediately.
\n\u201cWhere did you get that?\u201d
\nSo he recognized it.
\nRebecca stared at him.
\n\u201cYou knew.\u201d
\nThomas sank into a chair.
\n\u201cMy mother told me years later she\u2019d recorded the argument.\u201d
\n\u201cDid you know where the tape was?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cDid Richard?\u201d
\nThomas shook his head.
\n\u201cDad spent years looking for it.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\nThomas looked at Rebecca.
\n\u201cBecause he wanted to know if your mother could have been saved.\u201d
\nRebecca\u2019s face crumpled.
\n\u201cCould she?\u201d
\nThomas began crying.
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s not what I asked.\u201d
\n\u201cI called.\u201d
\n\u201cYou hesitated.\u201d
\n\u201cFor maybe thirty seconds.\u201d
\n\u201cThirty seconds?\u201d
\n\u201cI was seventeen!\u201d
\nHis voice cracked.
\nThen he immediately lowered it.
\n\u201cI was seventeen, Rebecca. I was terrified. Sarah had told me my life would be ruined if anyone found out. I believed her.\u201d
\nRebecca stared at him.
\nThomas wiped his face.
\n\u201cI\u2019ve replayed those thirty seconds for forty-two years.\u201d
\n\u201cYou remembered?\u201d
\n\u201cEvery second.\u201d
\n\u201cThen why did you fight so hard to bury everything?\u201d
\nHe looked at her.
\n\u201cBecause I didn\u2019t want you to know what she did to me.\u201d
\nRebecca\u2019s anger disappeared.
\nNot completely.
\nBut enough for grief to enter.
\nThomas continued.
\n\u201cI thought if you knew, you\u2019d think I hated you.\u201d
\nRebecca\u2019s eyes filled.
\n\u201cDo you?\u201d
\nHe looked horrified.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cThen what am I to you?\u201d
\nThomas opened his mouth.
\nNothing came out.
\nFinally, he whispered:
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know what word I\u2019m allowed to use.\u201d
\nRebecca started crying.
\nThomas did too.
\nThen she said:
\n\u201cMaybe we don\u2019t need one yet.\u201d
\nHe nodded.
\nFor a long time, they simply sat across from each other.
\nNo dramatic embrace.
\nNo instant forgiveness.
\nJust two people looking at a truth neither had chosen.
\nThen Thomas reached into his coat.
\n\u201cI brought something.\u201d
\nHe placed an old photograph on the table.
\nIt showed Sarah sitting beneath a tree with baby Rebecca in her arms.
\nOn the back was a handwritten sentence.
\nI recognized Sarah\u2019s handwriting from the letters.
\nFOR MY LITTLE REBECCA \u2014 MAY YOU GROW UP WITHOUT CARRYING THE MISTAKES OF THE PEOPLE WHO CAME BEFORE YOU.
\nRebecca pressed the photograph against her chest.
\nAnd that was when the doorbell rang.
\nI opened the door.
\nA courier stood outside holding a package.
\n\u201cEmily Bennett?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cSignature required.\u201d
\nI signed.
\nThere was no return address.
\nI carried the package inside.
\nThomas looked at it.
\n\u201cWhat is that?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d
\nInside was another wooden box.
\nNot Richard\u2019s.
\nOlder.
\nMuch older.
\nOn top was a note.
\nThe handwriting wasn\u2019t Richard\u2019s.
\nIt wasn\u2019t Margaret\u2019s.
\nAnd it wasn\u2019t Sarah\u2019s.
\nThe note contained only one sentence:
\n\u201cRichard Bennett spent forty years trying to repay Sarah for saving his company, but none of you have asked where Sarah got the $18,000.\u201d
\nMy stomach dropped.
\nRebecca slowly stood.
\nThomas stared at the note.
\nThen I looked inside the box.
\nThere was a bank ledger from 1978.
\nA photograph of Sarah standing beside a man whose face had been torn away.
\nAnd a legal agreement.
\nI unfolded it.
\nThe document showed that the $18,000 Sarah gave Richard had not belonged to Sarah.
\nSomeone else had given it to her three days earlier.
\nAt the bottom of the agreement was a signature.
\nI recognized the last name immediately.
\nBennett.
\nBut the first name wasn\u2019t Richard.
\nThomas leaned over my shoulder.
\nThen his face turned white.
\n\u201cThat\u2019s impossible.\u201d
\n\u201cWho is he?\u201d
\nThomas looked at me.
\n\u201cMy grandfather.\u201d
\nRichard\u2019s father.
\nI stared at him.
\n\u201cBut Richard always said his father died penniless.\u201d
\n\u201cHe did.\u201d
\nRebecca picked up the photograph.
\n\u201cThen why would he secretly give Sarah the exact amount that later saved Richard\u2019s company?\u201d
\nNobody had an answer.
\nI turned the ledger to the final page.
\nThere, beside the transfer, someone had written a message:
\nPAYMENT FOR HER SILENCE.
\nAnd beneath it:
\nIF RICHARD EVER DISCOVERS WHAT HIS FATHER DID, THE BENNETT FAMILY WILL LOSE FAR MORE THAN MONEY.
\nI thought we\u2019d finally uncovered every secret.
\nBut as I stared at those words, I understood something Richard had apparently never known.
\nThe fortune hadn\u2019t begun with Sarah saving him.
\nIt had begun with whatever his father had paid Sarah to keep hidden.
\nAnd for the first time since Richard\u2019s funeral, I found myself afraid of a secret Richard hadn\u2019t left behind.
\nI was afraid of one he\u2019d died without ever discovering\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026..<\/p>\n
I thought the story ended at the lake. I was wrong. Three weeks after I placed my letter to Richard inside the wooden box, I received a phone call from … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":8015,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-8357","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\/8357","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=8357"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8357\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8368,"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8357\/revisions\/8368"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/8015"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=8357"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=8357"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/realstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=8357"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}