Her name was Claire Collins.<\/p>\n
At least that was the name Tyler knew.<\/p>\n
Detective Marquez found no birth certificate under it.<\/p>\n
No driver's license.<\/p>\n
No tax history.<\/p>\n
No obvious trace.<\/p>\n
"Alias," Richard said.<\/p>\n
"Probably."<\/p>\n
Tyler stared at the hospital still image.<\/p>\n
"She looked different at the motel."<\/p>\n
"How?" Marquez asked.<\/p>\n
"Dark hair."<\/p>\n
"Wig?"<\/p>\n
"Maybe."<\/p>\n
"Did you talk to her?"<\/p>\n
"Not much."<\/p>\n
"What did Michael say?"<\/p>\n
"That she was his daughter."<\/p>\n
I felt anger before curiosity.<\/p>\n
My brother had a daughter.<\/p>\n
I had a niece.<\/p>\n
Someone in my family had existed for decades while I set Christmas tables for fewer people than I actually had.<\/p>\n
"How old?"<\/p>\n
"Mid-thirties, I think."<\/p>\n
That would mean she was born before Michael disappeared.<\/p>\n
Or shortly after.<\/p>\n
"Who is her mother?"<\/p>\n
"I don't know."<\/p>\n
"Did you ask?"<\/p>\n
Tyler gave me a look that answered the question.<\/p>\n
Of course not.<\/p>\n
He had been too busy being impressed by the existence of secret relatives to demand inconvenient details.<\/p>\n
Marquez contacted the hospital.<\/p>\n
The woman calling herself Claire had been stopped before reaching Michael's protected room.<\/p>\n
She produced judicial credentials that appeared valid enough to pass the first security checkpoint.<\/p>\n
When challenged by the second, she left.<\/p>\n
Not ran.<\/p>\n
Walked.<\/p>\n
Calmly.<\/p>\n
The credentials belonged to Rebecca Varden.<\/p>\n
"Stolen?" I asked.<\/p>\n
"Possibly."<\/p>\n
"Or given."<\/p>\n
"Possibly."<\/p>\n
"Where is Claire now?"<\/p>\n
"Unknown."<\/p>\n
I looked toward Curtis's departing ambulance.<\/p>\n
"Would he know?"<\/p>\n
"We'll ask."<\/p>\n
Pike, meanwhile, was transferred under heavy guard.<\/p>\n
Before leaving, he asked to speak privately with Marquez.<\/p>\n
She refused privacy.<\/p>\n
He spoke anyway.<\/p>\n
"Claire isn't with Rebecca."<\/p>\n
Marquez stopped.<\/p>\n
"How do you know?"<\/p>\n
"Because Rebecca hates her."<\/p>\n
"Why?"<\/p>\n
Pike smiled weakly.<\/p>\n
"Ask Michael who Claire's mother is."<\/p>\n
Then he let them take him.<\/p>\n
The sentence followed us back to the house.<\/p>\n
Who was Claire's mother?<\/p>\n
Richard tried possibilities.<\/p>\n
Old girlfriend.<\/p>\n
Someone Michael met while hiding.<\/p>\n
Someone connected to Leonard.<\/p>\n
None satisfied me.<\/p>\n
Pike had framed the identity as something dangerous.<\/p>\n
Rebecca hated Claire because of her mother.<\/p>\n
That implied history.<\/p>\n
Maybe bloodline.<\/p>\n
Maybe betrayal.<\/p>\n
Marquez finally arranged for me to see Michael.<\/p>\n
The decision came just after dusk.<\/p>\n
His medical team believed he was stable enough.<\/p>\n
The hospital leak had been narrowed enough to control entry.<\/p>\n
Only I would go.<\/p>\n
Richard wanted to join.<\/p>\n
I shook my head.<\/p>\n
"This one is mine."<\/p>\n
He accepted it.<\/p>\n
Tyler remained under protection.<\/p>\n
Before I left, he said, "Ask him about Claire."<\/p>\n
"I intend to."<\/p>\n
"And tell him\u2014"<\/p>\n
He stopped.<\/p>\n
"What?"<\/p>\n
"Nothing."<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
He changed his mind.<\/p>\n
"Tell him I know he lied to me."<\/p>\n
"I think he already knows."<\/p>\n
The hospital room had no name on the door.<\/p>\n
Two officers stood outside.<\/p>\n
Marquez opened it.<\/p>\n
Then stepped back.<\/p>\n
My brother was sitting upright in bed.<\/p>\n
For a moment neither of us spoke.<\/p>\n
Twenty-one years was too much time to cross with language.<\/p>\n
He looked like Dad.<\/p>\n
That hurt first.<\/p>\n
Same forehead.<\/p>\n
Same slight bend to the nose.<\/p>\n
But his eyes were Mom's.<\/p>\n
Older than I remembered.<\/p>\n
Tired.<\/p>\n
When he smiled, something in my chest collapsed.<\/p>\n
"Hey, Maggie."<\/p>\n
Nobody had called me that since our parents died.<\/p>\n
I stood in the doorway.<\/p>\n
"Don't."<\/p>\n
His smile disappeared.<\/p>\n
"Okay."<\/p>\n
I entered.<\/p>\n
Marquez closed the door but remained outside the glass.<\/p>\n
Michael looked at my face.<\/p>\n
"Tyler did that?"<\/p>\n
I knew he meant the fading mark near my cheek.<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
His expression darkened.<\/p>\n
"I'll\u2014"<\/p>\n
"You'll do nothing."<\/p>\n
He stopped.<\/p>\n
"He hit you."<\/p>\n
"And that's between Tyler, me and the legal consequences."<\/p>\n
"He shouldn't have\u2014"<\/p>\n
"No, he shouldn't have."<\/p>\n
I stepped closer.<\/p>\n
"And you don't get to return from the dead and immediately become my protector."<\/p>\n
Michael looked down.<\/p>\n
"Fair."<\/p>\n
I took the chair beside the bed.<\/p>\n
For several seconds I simply looked at him.<\/p>\n
"You watched my wedding."<\/p>\n
He closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"Tyler's birthday."<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"Mom's funeral."<\/p>\n
His mouth tightened.<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"Why?"<\/p>\n
"I wanted to see you."<\/p>\n
"You had a phone."<\/p>\n
"I thought you hated me."<\/p>\n
"You never asked."<\/p>\n
"I know."<\/p>\n
"You thought I framed you."<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"Because Leonard told you."<\/p>\n
"And Rebecca."<\/p>\n
"Mom tried to tell you otherwise."<\/p>\n
"I didn't believe her."<\/p>\n
"She sent you letters."<\/p>\n
"I returned them."<\/p>\n
"Why?"<\/p>\n
"Because every time I started believing her, Leonard showed me something else."<\/p>\n
"With my initials."<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"Fake documents."<\/p>\n
"I know that now."<\/p>\n
I leaned back.<\/p>\n
"Then say it."<\/p>\n
He looked at me.<\/p>\n
"Say what?"<\/p>\n
"That you were wrong."<\/p>\n
Pain crossed his face.<\/p>\n
"I was wrong."<\/p>\n
"About me."<\/p>\n
"I was wrong about you."<\/p>\n
"Completely."<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
I had waited twenty-one years for an apology I didn't know I was owed.<\/p>\n
It did not heal anything instantly.<\/p>\n
But truth settled differently in the body than accusation.<\/p>\n
"Why did you involve Tyler?"<\/p>\n
Michael looked toward the window.<\/p>\n
"Because I thought he deserved to know."<\/p>\n
"That's not an answer."<\/p>\n
"I thought if I told him what happened\u2014"<\/p>\n
"You told him lies."<\/p>\n
"I believed them."<\/p>\n
"You also gave him money."<\/p>\n
He winced.<\/p>\n
"I know."<\/p>\n
"You made him feel like he had a mission."<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"You encouraged resentment toward me."<\/p>\n
Silence.<\/p>\n
"Did you?"<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
My eyes burned.<\/p>\n
"You weaponized my son against me because you were too afraid to confront me."<\/p>\n
He looked older suddenly.<\/p>\n
Smaller.<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
No excuse.<\/p>\n
That made it worse and better at the same time.<\/p>\n
"Did you tell him to steal from me?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"He says you asked him to take money."<\/p>\n
"I asked him to move money."<\/p>\n
"From my account."<\/p>\n
"Later, yes."<\/p>\n
"So yes."<\/p>\n
Michael swallowed.<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"Why?"<\/p>\n
"I thought it was mine."<\/p>\n
"You thought my money was yours because Leonard said Dad owed you."<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
I laughed bitterly.<\/p>\n
"You and Tyler really found each other."<\/p>\n
He flinched.<\/p>\n
Good.<\/p>\n
I wanted him to understand.<\/p>\n
"You both decided your hurt entitled you to take from me."<\/p>\n
"You're right."<\/p>\n
I didn't know what to do with people who finally admitted things without arguing.<\/p>\n
It left nowhere for my anger to bounce.<\/p>\n
"Who is Claire?"<\/p>\n
Everything in Michael changed.<\/p>\n
Not fear exactly.<\/p>\n
Protectiveness.<\/p>\n
"My daughter."<\/p>\n
"I know that part."<\/p>\n
"Who is her mother?"<\/p>\n
He looked toward the door.<\/p>\n
"Michael."<\/p>\n
"Rebecca."<\/p>\n
The name landed quietly.<\/p>\n
I stared.<\/p>\n
"Rebecca Varden is Claire's mother?"<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
That explained Pike's warning.<\/p>\n
Rebecca hated Claire.<\/p>\n
Not merely because of some rivalry.<\/p>\n
Because Claire was living evidence of a past Rebecca wanted buried.<\/p>\n
"How?"<\/p>\n
Michael almost smiled.<\/p>\n
"The usual way."<\/p>\n
"Don't joke."<\/p>\n
"Sorry."<\/p>\n
"When?"<\/p>\n
"We were young."<\/p>\n
"Before the fire?"<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"Did Dad know?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Mom?"<\/p>\n
"Eventually."<\/p>\n
"Robert?"<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
Rebecca's father.<\/p>\n
The man above Leonard.<\/p>\n
My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n
"Did Robert approve?"<\/p>\n
Michael laughed once.<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"That is why Rebecca was near you at Dad's funeral."<\/p>\n
"Partly."<\/p>\n
"She stayed connected to you because of Claire."<\/p>\n
"At first."<\/p>\n
"What changed?"<\/p>\n
"Power."<\/p>\n
Michael looked toward his hands.<\/p>\n
"Rebecca wasn't always what she became."<\/p>\n
I thought of Mom's tape.<\/p>\n
Rebecca originally found evidence in Robert's papers.<\/p>\n
She contacted James.<\/p>\n
Tried to help.<\/p>\n
Then chose the family reputation.<\/p>\n
"When did she turn?"<\/p>\n
"Not one moment."<\/p>\n
He rubbed his forehead.<\/p>\n
"That's the part people want to simplify."<\/p>\n
"Don't."<\/p>\n
"She started by protecting her father from prison."<\/p>\n
"Then?"<\/p>\n
"She hid one document."<\/p>\n
"Then?"<\/p>\n
"She changed one message."<\/p>\n
"Then?"<\/p>\n
"She warned Leonard about one meeting."<\/p>\n
"And eventually?"<\/p>\n
"Eventually there was no line left to cross."<\/p>\n
That sounded familiar too.<\/p>\n
Small compromises becoming identity.<\/p>\n
"Did she raise Claire?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Why?"<\/p>\n
"Robert wouldn't allow it."<\/p>\n
"Where did Claire live?"<\/p>\n
"With Rebecca's cousin under another surname."<\/p>\n
"Did Claire know who you were?"<\/p>\n
"Not until she was sixteen."<\/p>\n
"And after?"<\/p>\n
"She found me."<\/p>\n
Of course.<\/p>\n
Another child seeking hidden family.<\/p>\n
Another opening for manipulation.<\/p>\n
"Does Claire work with you?"<\/p>\n
"Sometimes."<\/p>\n
"Does she work with Rebecca?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Then why use Rebecca's credentials?"<\/p>\n
Michael's face tightened.<\/p>\n
"Because she stole them."<\/p>\n
"Why go to your room?"<\/p>\n
"To get me out."<\/p>\n
"From police?"<\/p>\n
"From Rebecca."<\/p>\n
"You were protected."<\/p>\n
He gave me a tired look.<\/p>\n
"You've had one day inside this story and already know protection is complicated."<\/p>\n
That annoyed me because it was true.<\/p>\n
"Where is Claire now?"<\/p>\n
"I don't know."<\/p>\n
"Did you tell her about the authorization page?"<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"Did you tell her Curtis had it?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Then what does she know?"<\/p>\n
"Enough."<\/p>\n
"That's everyone's favorite amount."<\/p>\n
He smiled faintly.<\/p>\n
Then winced from his ribs.<\/p>\n
I looked at the monitor.<\/p>\n
"Rebecca called me."<\/p>\n
Michael's expression hardened.<\/p>\n
"What did she say?"<\/p>\n
"That you started the second fire."<\/p>\n
He went still.<\/p>\n
"Did you?"<\/p>\n
His eyes closed.<\/p>\n
"Michael."<\/p>\n
"I went back inside."<\/p>\n
"Why?"<\/p>\n
"The case."<\/p>\n
"Did you deliberately start the fire?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Did Samuel enter because of you?"<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"Did he die because of you?"<\/p>\n
Michael's mouth tightened.<\/p>\n
"I thought so."<\/p>\n
"Did you see him die?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Then why believe Leonard?"<\/p>\n
"He showed me Samuel's ring."<\/p>\n
"Samuel was alive long enough to help you escape."<\/p>\n
"I know now."<\/p>\n
"Did you fight Frank inside the office?"<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"What happened?"<\/p>\n
"Fuel spilled."<\/p>\n
"Did you ignite it?"<\/p>\n
He hesitated.<\/p>\n
Not long.<\/p>\n
But long enough.<\/p>\n
"Michael."<\/p>\n
"I threw a flare."<\/p>\n
My stomach dropped.<\/p>\n
"At Frank?"<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"And the fuel caught."<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
Silence filled the room.<\/p>\n
Rebecca had manipulated the story.<\/p>\n
But she had not invented everything.<\/p>\n
"Did you know the fuel was there?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Did you intend to start a fire?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Did you intend to hurt Frank?"<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
I looked away.<\/p>\n
"How badly?"<\/p>\n
Michael didn't answer immediately.<\/p>\n
"Badly."<\/p>\n
There it was.<\/p>\n
My brother had not planned the second blaze.<\/p>\n
But he had tried to hurt Frank.<\/p>\n
Maybe kill him.<\/p>\n
"Why hide that from me?"<\/p>\n
"I didn't know how much you knew."<\/p>\n
"Nothing. I knew nothing."<\/p>\n
"I know."<\/p>\n
"Stop saying that."<\/p>\n
He looked ashamed.<\/p>\n
"Sorry."<\/p>\n
"What happened after the flare?"<\/p>\n
"Frank ran."<\/p>\n
"Samuel?"<\/p>\n
"I thought he'd left."<\/p>\n
"But he came back."<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"For you."<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
Michael's voice cracked.<\/p>\n
"He pulled me out through the loading dock."<\/p>\n
"And later released you from the truck."<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"He saved you twice."<\/p>\n
Michael nodded.<\/p>\n
"And Leonard convinced you he died because you killed him."<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
The cruelty of that was enormous.<\/p>\n
But guilt had fertile ground because Michael had thrown the flare.<\/p>\n
Leonard didn't need to invent everything.<\/p>\n
Only reshape what already hurt.<\/p>\n
"Why didn't Samuel expose them?"<\/p>\n
"Because Frank caught him."<\/p>\n
Michael looked toward the door.<\/p>\n
"Leonard told me Samuel was dead that night."<\/p>\n
"He was."<\/p>\n
Michael closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
I changed the subject.<\/p>\n
"Where is the HAYES file?"<\/p>\n
His eyes opened.<\/p>\n
"Safe."<\/p>\n
"That's not enough."<\/p>\n
"I gave it to Claire."<\/p>\n
My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n
"The woman currently missing."<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"Does Rebecca know?"<\/p>\n
"Probably."<\/p>\n
"Then Claire is in danger."<\/p>\n
"She has been since birth."<\/p>\n
"That isn't an answer."<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Why give her the file?"<\/p>\n
"Because she knows how Rebecca thinks."<\/p>\n
"That makes her the most predictable target."<\/p>\n
Michael looked at me.<\/p>\n
"You're right."<\/p>\n
Again.<\/p>\n
I was getting tired of men becoming reasonable after the damage.<\/p>\n
"Where would Claire go?"<\/p>\n
He hesitated.<\/p>\n
Then said, "James."<\/p>\n
"Varden?"<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
I stood.<\/p>\n
"Rebecca is already after James."<\/p>\n
Michael's eyes widened.<\/p>\n
"How do you know?"<\/p>\n
"Curtis."<\/p>\n
"You talked to Curtis?"<\/p>\n
"Today."<\/p>\n
"Where is he?"<\/p>\n
"Hospital."<\/p>\n
"What happened?"<\/p>\n
"Someone tried to shoot us."<\/p>\n
"Who?"<\/p>\n
"Pike."<\/p>\n
Michael swore.<\/p>\n
"He got out?"<\/p>\n
"For a while."<\/p>\n
"Then Rebecca knows Curtis turned."<\/p>\n
"Obviously."<\/p>\n
I stepped toward the door.<\/p>\n
"Claire is heading toward James with the HAYES file. Leonard is heading toward James for the federal memorandum. Rebecca wants both."<\/p>\n
Michael grabbed my wrist.<\/p>\n
Weakly.<\/p>\n
But enough.<\/p>\n
"Margaret."<\/p>\n
I looked down at his hand.<\/p>\n
He released me immediately.<\/p>\n
Good.<\/p>\n
"What?"<\/p>\n
"James doesn't have the memorandum."<\/p>\n
"Then who does?"<\/p>\n
Michael looked toward the camera in the corner.<\/p>\n
Then at me.<\/p>\n
"Claire."<\/p>\n
I stared.<\/p>\n
"He gave it to her years ago."<\/p>\n
"Why?"<\/p>\n
"Because he knew Rebecca would search him eventually."<\/p>\n
"Then why is Leonard going to James?"<\/p>\n
"Because James let Rebecca believe he kept it."<\/p>\n
"To protect Claire."<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
Another old person taking danger onto himself to shield the next generation.<\/p>\n
"What is in the memorandum?"<\/p>\n
"Names. Dates. Dad's statement. James's notes."<\/p>\n
"Enough to prosecute?"<\/p>\n
"Then, maybe."<\/p>\n
"And now?"<\/p>\n
"Enough to prove the cover-up."<\/p>\n
"Where does Claire keep it?"<\/p>\n
"I don't know."<\/p>\n
I laughed bitterly.<\/p>\n
"Of course."<\/p>\n
Then Michael said:<\/p>\n
"But I know where she keeps copies."<\/p>\n
"Where?"<\/p>\n
He looked directly at me.<\/p>\n
"Your house."<\/p>\n
I stopped.<\/p>\n
"What?"<\/p>\n
"Claire has been inside your house."<\/p>\n
My skin went cold.<\/p>\n
"When?"<\/p>\n
"More than once."<\/p>\n
"How?"<\/p>\n
"Tyler."<\/p>\n
Of course.<\/p>\n
Tyler had unknowingly or knowingly opened another door.<\/p>\n
"What did she hide?"<\/p>\n
Michael said, "Ask him about the books in the guest room."<\/p>\n
The guest room.<\/p>\n
Where Dad had once slept after surgery.<\/p>\n
Where Richard remembered the scarred man coming to the porch.<\/p>\n
Where I had stored boxes for years without looking closely.<\/p>\n
I left the hospital immediately.<\/p>\n
By the time Marquez and I reached the house, Tyler was waiting in the foyer.<\/p>\n
I did not waste time.<\/p>\n
"The guest room."<\/p>\n
His face changed.<\/p>\n
"What?"<\/p>\n
"The books."<\/p>\n
He looked toward the stairs.<\/p>\n
"I can explain."<\/p>\n
"Later."<\/p>\n
We went upstairs.<\/p>\n
Three shelves lined one wall.<\/p>\n
Old novels.<\/p>\n
Travel guides.<\/p>\n
Dad's books.<\/p>\n
Tyler pointed to a thick red hardcover.<\/p>\n
"Claire put that there."<\/p>\n
"When?"<\/p>\n
"Six months ago."<\/p>\n
"Did you know what was inside?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
Marquez removed it carefully.<\/p>\n
The book had been hollowed out.<\/p>\n
Inside was a flash drive.<\/p>\n
No paper.<\/p>\n
No memorandum.<\/p>\n
Digital copies.<\/p>\n
Marquez bagged it.<\/p>\n
Then I saw something else inside the cavity.<\/p>\n
A photograph.<\/p>\n
Claire and Michael together.<\/p>\n
On the back, in Claire's handwriting:<\/p>\n
If Dad disappears again, Margaret gets everything.<\/p>\n
Below it was a password.<\/p>\n
0317-EVELYN.<\/p>\n
My mother's number again.<\/p>\n
The past had not merely survived.<\/p>\n
It had been waiting inside my own house for someone to finally stop keeping the peace long enough to find it.<\/p>\n
Her name was Claire Collins. At least that was the name Tyler knew. Detective Marquez found no birth certificate under it. No driver's license. No tax history. No obvious trace. … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":15913,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15929","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-feel-one-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15929","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=15929"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15929\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15977,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15929\/revisions\/15977"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/15913"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=15929"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=15929"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=15929"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}