Those were the first words I heard after twelve days surrounded by an endless, overwhelming darkness\u2014as though the entire world had completely disappeared around me.<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t move. I couldn\u2019t speak. Even trying to breathe deeply sent a sharp wave of pain through my head.<\/p>\n
But I recognized that voice immediately.<\/p>\n
\u201cGwendolyn\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
My nine-year-old daughter sat beside my hospital bed, quietly crying, her little fingers holding mine just as she always did whenever thunderstorms frigh.ten.ed her.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom\u2026 if you can hear me, please squeeze my hand. Just once.\u201d<\/p>\n
I tried.<\/p>\n
Heaven knows I tried.<\/p>\n
But my muscles wouldn\u2019t respond.<\/p>\n
A nurse entered, discussing IV fluids, blood pressure, and the \u201cmiracle\u201d of my unexpected survival. She explained that my SUV had left the roadway near a mountain pass beyond the city.<\/p>\n
Everyone repeated the same explanation:<\/p>\n
\u201cPoor Giselle\u2026 she lost control around that curve.\u201d<\/p>\n
But I couldn\u2019t remember losing control.<\/p>\n
My final memory was of Gideon\u2014my husband\u2014sitting across our kitchen table, pushing several documents toward me with an unsettling smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust sign, Giselle. We need to protect our assets before the IRS starts asking questions.\u201d<\/p>\n
I refused.<\/p>\n
Later that evening, my brakes suddenly stopped working.<\/p>\n
The hospital door opened. Gwendolyn immediately released my hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re here again?\u201d Gideon asked coldly. \u201cI already explained that your mother can\u2019t hear you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI only wanted to visit her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGo wait with your Aunt Sylvia.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sylvia.<\/p>\n
My older sister.<\/p>\n
The sister who braided my hair throughout childhood. The one who loaned me her favorite dress for my wedding. The woman who cried before everyone at the hospital, insisting she\u2019d sacrifice anything to save me.<\/p>\n
Her heels sounded across the floor. Then came her familiar expensive perfume\u2014the fragrance she proudly claimed made her \u201csmell like money.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLet the child say goodbye,\u201d Sylvia remarked. \u201cThe notary should arrive shortly.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe doctor already explained everything,\u201d Gideon answered. \u201cI\u2019m not spending another fortune maintaining someone who might never recover.\u201d<\/p>\n
Might never recover.<\/p>\n
Anger swept through me so intensely that I desperately wanted to open my eyes and confront him.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mom is going to wake up,\u201d Gwendolyn insisted, struggling to speak.<\/p>\n
Gideon gave a humorless laugh.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother isn\u2019t coming back, sweetheart.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sylvia approached my bedside. I felt her carefully smoothing my hair.<\/p>\n
\u201cEven now, she somehow manages to make everything about herself.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then she lowered her voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cOnce Giselle is gone, we\u2019ll take Gwendolyn overseas. Everything in Chicago has already been arranged.\u201d<\/p>\n
Gwendolyn moved backward.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re sending me away?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSomewhere you can start fresh,\u201d Gideon replied.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I want to stay with Mom!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother can\u2019t make those decisions anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, she can! She told me that if something happened, I should contact Ms. Vance!\u201d<\/p>\n
An uncomfortable silence filled the room.<\/p>\n
Ms. Vance.<\/p>\n
My attorney.<\/p>\n
The only person who knew I\u2019d updated my will just two weeks before the acc!dent.<\/p>\n
Gideon quietly closed the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat attorney, Gwendolyn?\u201d<\/p>\n
Sylvia stopped moving.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe knows more than we thought.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then something extraordinary happened.<\/p>\n
One finger. Only one.<\/p>\n
It moved.<\/p>\n
Gwendolyn noticed immediately. Her eyes widened, but she remained silent. Leaning closer, she whispered:<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, stay still. I\u2019ve already asked someone to help.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat was that?\u201d Gideon demanded.<\/p>\n
Sylvia opened her handbag.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe notary is waiting downstairs.\u201d<\/p>\n
Gideon firmly took my hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou need to approve those documents, Giselle. One way or another.\u201d<\/p>\n
But I wasn\u2019t giving up anymore.<\/p>\n
I was listening.<\/p>\n
Five minutes later, someone knocked.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat should be the notary,\u201d Sylvia announced.<\/p>\n
The door swung open.<\/p>\n
But the newcomer wasn\u2019t there to notarize anything.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood evening, Gideon. Before you approach Giselle again, perhaps you can explain why investigators found evidence that someone deliberately interfered with her brakes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nobody spoke.<\/p>\n
And suddenly I understood the most difficult part of this nightmare was still ahead.<\/p>\n
The silence afterward felt so overwhelming that even the steady beeping of my heart monitor seemed unusually loud.<\/p>\n
Gideon gradually released my hand\u2014not because he was frigh.ten.ed, but because he was reconsidering his options.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho allowed you inside?\u201d he demanded.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe hospital employees who have already contacted investigators,\u201d Ms. Vance answered. \u201cAnd the automotive specialist who inspected Giselle\u2019s vehicle.\u201d<\/p>\n
My trusted ally. My strongest protection.<\/p>\n
Yet I remained unable to move, desperately wishing I could warn her that Gideon wasn\u2019t acting alone.<\/p>\n
Because the person I feared most wasn\u2019t my husband.<\/p>\n
It was Sylvia.<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t appear frightened.<\/p>\n
She sounded irritated.<\/p>\n
\u201cGiselle was involved in an acc!dent,\u201d she insisted. \u201cInventing accusations while she\u2019s hospitalized is heartless.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAn unusual acc!dent,\u201d Ms. Vance responded. \u201cInvestigators discovered evidence of deliberate interference with the braking system. This wasn\u2019t an ordinary mechanical failure.\u201d<\/p>\n
Someone approached my bedside.<\/p>\n
Sylvia bent toward my ear, speaking in a carefully controlled whisper.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat doesn\u2019t establish responsibility,\u201d she murmured. \u201cPlenty of people could enter that parking garage.\u201d<\/p>\n
But her fingers were trembling.<\/p>\n
For the first time I could remember\u2014<\/p>\n
Sylvia seemed genuinely unsettled.<\/p>\n
\u201cVery few people knew Giselle would travel along that particular road,\u201d Ms. Vance continued. \u201cAnd even fewer had anything to gain from her disappearance.\u201d<\/p>\n
Gideon gave a strained laugh.<\/p>\n
\u201cGain? I\u2019m devastated. My wife is lying unconscious in a hospital.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour wife recently updated her will,\u201d Ms. Vance replied.<\/p>\n
Everything went quiet.<\/p>\n
Sylvia stepped away.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s impossible,\u201d she answered immediately. \u201cShe would never have\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
She stopped herself.<\/p>\n
Too late.<\/p>\n
\u201cNever have done what, Sylvia?\u201d Ms. Vance asked.<\/p>\n
Gwendolyn held my hand more firmly.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe heard everything, didn\u2019t she?\u201d Sylvia whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cThose changes aren\u2019t legitimate,\u201d Gideon interrupted. \u201cGiselle wasn\u2019t thinking clearly. Her own sister can testify to that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGiselle understood every decision,\u201d Ms. Vance replied. \u201cShe transferred her assets into a trust benefiting Gwendolyn. She also left explicit instructions that neither of you should control her affairs if she became incapacitated.\u201d<\/p>\n
Suddenly, everything made sense.<\/p>\n
They weren\u2019t simply interested in our property.<\/p>\n
They wanted authority over Gwendolyn.<\/p>\n
Her future. Her inheritance.<\/p>\n
Something dropped onto the floor\u2014perhaps Sylvia\u2019s handbag.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis situation is becoming ridiculous,\u201d Sylvia complained.<\/p>\n
Control.<\/p>\n
That had always been her favorite word.<\/p>\n
She managed family gatherings, financial discussions, private information\u2014anything she could influence.<\/p>\n
Now she approached my bed again.<\/p>\n
\u201cPerhaps we should have taken additional precautions to prevent this situation.\u201d<\/p>\n
My chest tightened.<\/p>\n
A small metallic sound interrupted the conversation.<\/p>\n
Sylvia had removed something from her handbag.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis discussion ends now,\u201d she announced quietly.<\/p>\n
\u201cSylvia, please put that away,\u201d Ms. Vance warned.<\/p>\n
Before anyone else could respond, Gwendolyn spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cAunt Sylvia\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
Her voice had become remarkably steady.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said something like that on the night Mom had her accident.\u201d<\/p>\n
Everyone fell silent.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d Gideon demanded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI heard you both talking in the kitchen,\u201d Gwendolyn explained. \u201cYou said Mom would never sign those papers. Then Aunt Sylvia said that one difficult curve could solve what a courtroom would make complicated.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sylvia muttered something angrily.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
But Gwendolyn continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said everyone would believe Mom was exhausted. And afterward, you planned to take me somewhere far away.\u201d<\/p>\n
Gideon stepped toward her.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome over here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStay where you are, Gwendolyn,\u201d Ms. Vance said firmly.<\/p>\n
The unfamiliar object made another faint metallic sound.<\/p>\n
I desperately wanted to speak.<\/p>\n
To get up.<\/p>\n
To reassure my daughter that she wasn\u2019t alone.<\/p>\n
But there was only one thing I could manage.<\/p>\n
I moved my hand.<\/p>\n
This time, it wasn\u2019t merely one finger.<\/p>\n
My entire hand moved.<\/p>\n
Gwendolyn noticed immediately. She turned toward me, her eyes filling with tears, but remained completely quiet.<\/p>\n
Sylvia noticed too.<\/p>\n
And smiled coldly.<\/p>\n
She secured the door.<\/p>\n
And just as Gideon reached for Gwendolyn\u2019s arm\u2014<\/p>\n
a commanding voice echoed from the hallway:<\/p>\n
\u201cPolice! Open the door!\u201d<\/p>\n
But Sylvia had already moved dangerously close to my daughter\u2026<\/p>\n
\u201cStep away from her,\u201d Ms. Vance instructed calmly.<\/p>\n
Sylvia held Gwendolyn firmly beside her.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not letting anyone take away what belongs to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
A powerful knock rattled the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cPolice! Open up immediately!\u201d<\/p>\n
Gideon\u2019s expression turned pale.<\/p>\n
For the first time, he no longer resembled a worried husband.<\/p>\n
He looked completely cornered.<\/p>\n
\u201cSylvia, put that away,\u201d he urged.<\/p>\n
\u201cSuddenly you\u2019re frightened?\u201d she demanded. \u201cYou weren\u2019t concerned when we discussed taking the property, the bank accounts, and custody of Gwendolyn.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou interfered with the brakes!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause you couldn\u2019t follow through!\u201d<\/p>\n
Each accusation revealed another piece of their carefully concealed scheme.<\/p>\n
Ms. Vance remained quiet.<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t need to interrupt.<\/p>\n
Her phone had captured their entire conversation.<\/p>\n
The door finally swung open.<\/p>\n
Two officers entered quickly. A nurse cried out in surprise.<\/p>\n
Sylvia resisted briefly, but an officer secured her hands, and a small object dropped onto the floor.<\/p>\n
A surgical instrument.<\/p>\n
My own sister had carried a sharp medical instrument into my hospital room.<\/p>\n
Gwendolyn pulled away and hurried toward me, embracing me gently despite my fragile condition.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom\u2026 please\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
Summoning every remaining ounce of strength, I squeezed her hand.<\/p>\n
Firmly.<\/p>\n
She lifted her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s responding! My mom is waking up!\u201d<\/p>\n
I struggled to open my eyes.<\/p>\n
The overhead lights seemed painfully bright. Everything appeared unfocused\u2014uniforms, unfamiliar faces, tearful expressions.<\/p>\n
But I could see her.<\/p>\n
My precious Gwendolyn.<\/p>\n
Safe.<\/p>\n
Courageous.<\/p>\n
Right beside me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m here, sweetheart,\u201d I whispered. \u201cI\u2019m right here.\u201d<\/p>\n
Gideon began protesting as officers escorted him away.<\/p>\n
\u201cGiselle, please explain that this is all a misunderstanding! I love you!\u201d<\/p>\n
Sylvia protested just as loudly.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe always got everything! Even our mother cared more about her!\u201d<\/p>\n
And at last, I understood.<\/p>\n
This wasn\u2019t simply about money.<\/p>\n
It was resentment.<\/p>\n
Years of unresolved jealousy, quietly growing beneath familiar smiles.<\/p>\n
The kind of bitterness that hides behind holiday embraces and affectionate words until someone\u2019s true intentions finally become clear.<\/p>\n
The following months brought challenges of their own.<\/p>\n
Medical procedures. Physical therapy. Restless dreams.<\/p>\n
Afternoons when walking seemed impossible.<\/p>\n
Evenings when memories of the unresponsive brakes returned without warning.<\/p>\n
But whenever I opened my eyes\u2014<\/p>\n
Gwendolyn was nearby.<\/p>\n
Ms. Vance made certain my estate instructions remained legally protected. My daughter\u2019s financial future was carefully secured.<\/p>\n
Neither Gideon nor Sylvia could access those assets.<\/p>\n
During the proceedings, they turned against one another.<\/p>\n
Gideon insisted Sylvia had organized everything.<\/p>\n
Sylvia maintained that Gideon had selected the location and arranged the timing.<\/p>\n
The legal process wasn\u2019t simple.<\/p>\n
But accountability eventually followed.<\/p>\n
Both were convicted.<\/p>\n
I never visited either of them afterward.<\/p>\n
Not every apology can restore what has been lost.<\/p>\n
We relocated to a smaller home in a peaceful town.<\/p>\n
Wide windows. A modest garden.<\/p>\n
Gwendolyn planted a young tree outside.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo we can watch it grow together, Mom,\u201d she explained.<\/p>\n
There are moments when fear still returns.<\/p>\n
Sometimes, the woman reflected in my mirror feels unfamiliar.<\/p>\n
Then Gwendolyn appears in my doorway, her hair untidy, wearing her favorite dinosaur pajamas.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom\u2026 are you still awake?\u201d<\/p>\n
And my answer never changes:<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, sweetheart. I\u2019m right here.\u201d<\/p>\n
Because some people will try to decide your future without your permission.<\/p>\n
Some relatives can betray your trust while continuing to say they love you.<\/p>\n
Yet sometimes\u2014<\/p>\n
a child\u2019s courage becomes the light that guides you through uncertainty.<\/p>\n
And sometimes, a mother finally opens her eyes and discovers another chance to live.<\/p>\n
Three years passed before I could travel along a winding mountain road without feeling my heartbeat quicken beneath my chest.<\/p>\n
For thirty-six months, memories of that d@ngerous curve\u2014and the frigh.ten.ing realization that my brakes weren\u2019t responding\u2014followed me into unexpected moments.<\/p>\n
But recovery rarely arrives through one extraordinary breakthrough; it unfolds through countless ordinary experiences.<\/p>\n
It happens on an uneventful Tuesday when you suddenly notice you haven\u2019t checked your rearview mirror for twenty minutes, or during a rainy afternoon when you realize your breathing has finally become relaxed.<\/p>\n
Our modest home combined pale cedar with natural stone, its generous windows filling each room with morning sunshine.<\/p>\n
There were no impressive marble entrances, no complicated corporate finances, and no constant reminder of the person I once was\u2014a woman who had mistaken remaining quiet for maintaining harmony.<\/p>\n
One pleasant Saturday in early May, I settled onto the back porch with a cup of black coffee, watching delicate morning mist drift above the lawn.<\/p>\n
The garden Gwendolyn and I had started during my second summer of rehabilitation was flourishing beautifully.<\/p>\n
The small Japanese maple she had planted had grown taller than its young gardener, its brilliant crimson foliage catching the early sunlight like glowing autumn embers.<\/p>\n
Gwendolyn emerged through the screen door with two bowls of oatmeal.<\/p>\n
Now twelve, she had finally outgrown her beloved dinosaur pajamas, although her thoughtful, determined eyes remained unchanged from the day she helped protect me in that hospital room.<\/p>\n
\u201cAwake already, Mom?\u201d she asked, settling into the wooden chair next to mine.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust admiring the garden,\u201d I answered, gently touching her shoulder. \u201cYour little tree is practically claiming the entire yard.\u201d<\/p>\n
She grinned, pushing a loose strand of dark hair away from her face. \u201cExactly what I wanted.\u201d<\/p>\n
We enjoyed breakfast in peaceful, familiar silence.<\/p>\n
Throughout those three years, we\u2019d established a comfortable routine together, creating a home where honesty was never negotiable.<\/p>\n
Secrets had no place between us.<\/p>\n
Neither did uncomfortable performances around the dinner table, hushed disagreements behind closed doors, or uncertainty about how deeply we cared for each other.<\/p>\n
Later that day, Ms. Vance came to visit.<\/p>\n
She had exchanged the elegant, structured business suits she once wore throughout my divorce proceedings and the criminal cases for a comfortable linen dress.<\/p>\n
A leather briefcase rested beneath her arm.<\/p>\n
During the intervening years, she had become far more than the determined attorney who defended my interests; she was among the small circle of adults I trusted completely.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood afternoon, Giselle,\u201d she greeted me, stepping onto the porch and setting her briefcase on the outdoor table. \u201cCongratulations on your anniversary.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre we really celebrating that?\u201d I asked, laughing quietly.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s been three years since the final appeal was dismissed,\u201d she explained with a knowing smile. \u201cI\u2019d certainly consider that an important milestone.\u201d<\/p>\n
She opened her briefcase and passed me a neatly organized collection of documents.<\/p>\n
Legal paperwork no longer made my stomach tighten.<\/p>\n
\u201cGideon\u2019s request for early parole was formally denied last week,\u201d Ms. Vance explained as she sat down. \u201cThe judge emphasized the seriousness of the carefully planned conspiracy and his continued refusal to accept responsibility.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSylvia remains at the correctional facility in Springfield, with no change to her current status. Neither is expected to qualify for another review for at least ten years.\u201d<\/p>\n
I studied the official stamps across the documents, surprised by the quiet emptiness I felt.<\/p>\n
There was no overwhelming satisfaction, no desire to celebrate their circumstances\u2014only the peaceful understanding that another difficult chapter had finally ended.<\/p>\n
\u201cHave either of them tried contacting me?\u201d I asked, placing the documents aside.<\/p>\n
\u201cSylvia attempted to send three letters through her institutional counselor last winter,\u201d Ms. Vance answered. \u201cEach was returned unopened in accordance with your existing protective order.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGideon stopped sending correspondence after his second legal motion was unsuccessful.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s good,\u201d I replied quietly.<\/p>\n
Some people insist that forgiveness is necessary before anyone can truly move forward.<\/p>\n
But hearing people I trusted discuss my future while I lay helpless in a hospital bed changed my understanding forever.<\/p>\n
Certain betrayals aren\u2019t simply unfortunate mistakes; they reveal choices someone deliberately made.<\/p>\n
I no longer carried hatred toward Sylvia or Gideon.<\/p>\n
Holding onto resentment demanded emotional energy, and I wanted to devote mine to raising my daughter.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow has Gwendolyn been doing?\u201d Ms. Vance asked, glancing toward the opposite side of the garden, where my daughter knelt beside the vegetable beds, carefully securing tomato vines to wooden supports.<\/p>\n
\u201cBetter than I ever imagined,\u201d I answered sincerely. \u201cShe took first place at the regional science fair last month.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd she finally stopped checking the front door locks three times every evening.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ms. Vance gave me an encouraging smile. \u201cWhat about you, Giselle?\u201d<\/p>\n
I lowered my gaze toward my hands.<\/p>\n
The delicate surgical marks along my left wrist had softened into faint silver lines.<\/p>\n
My leg occasionally ached whenever temperatures dropped, and exhaustion sometimes brought back a barely noticeable limp.<\/p>\n
Nevertheless, I was here. I could breathe freely.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve stopped living in the past,\u201d I told her. \u201cFor so long, I believed those twelve days in the hospital defined everything about me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI kept remembering the darkness and wondering whether anyone would ever realize I was still listening.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEventually, I understood that I hadn\u2019t merely survived the ending of one life. I\u2019d been given the opportunity to begin another.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ms. Vance nodded thoughtfully before fastening her briefcase. \u201cThen I believe my job is finally complete.\u201d<\/p>\n
After her departure, the afternoon sunlight slowly slipped behind the tall pine trees, stretching warm golden shadows across our garden.<\/p>\n
Gwendolyn climbed the porch steps, brushing loose soil from her hands onto her jeans.<\/p>\n
She stopped beside my chair and gently rested her head against my shoulder.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid Ms. Vance have good news?\u201d she asked softly.<\/p>\n
She inhaled slowly, then released a long breath, almost as though she were finally setting down something she\u2019d carried since she was nine.<\/p>\n
Her gaze traveled toward the vivid red leaves of her maple tree, moving gently beneath the evening breeze.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe made a wonderful home, Mom,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n
I held her a little closer, feeling the reassuring rhythm of her heartbeat beside me\u2014the strongest, most courageous heart I had ever known.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe certainly did, sweetheart,\u201d I answered, lifting my eyes toward the wide, peaceful sky stretching beyond our garden. \u201cWe certainly did.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201cMom\u2026 Dad doesn\u2019t want you to wake up. Please keep your eyes closed.\u201d Those were the first words I heard after twelve days surrounded by an endless, overwhelming darkness\u2014as though … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":873,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-872","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-latest-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/justanotherstory.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/872","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/justanotherstory.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/justanotherstory.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/justanotherstory.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/justanotherstory.us\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=872"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/justanotherstory.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/872\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":874,"href":"https:\/\/justanotherstory.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/872\/revisions\/874"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/justanotherstory.us\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/873"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/justanotherstory.us\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=872"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/justanotherstory.us\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=872"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/justanotherstory.us\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=872"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}