\u201cSeriously?\u201d<\/p>\n
Trent set the wine on the kitchen counter and walked toward the cake.<\/p>\n
Mom\u2019s expression changed almost immediately.<\/p>\n
The softness disappeared.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou actually made it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI said I would.\u201d<\/p>\n
Trent circled the table as though inspecting questionable construction.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt looks homemade.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is homemade.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat wasn\u2019t a compliment.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom touched her necklace.<\/p>\n
\u201cTrent.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat? I\u2019m not saying it\u2019s terrible.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat sounds almost exactly like what you\u2019re saying.\u201d<\/p>\n
He pointed at the photograph on top.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat part\u2019s kind of sweet.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut Mom, you\u2019ve got Dad\u2019s bosses coming tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cColleagues,\u201d she corrected.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhatever. And people from my firm.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat does that have to do with cake?\u201d<\/p>\n
Trent gave me the patient expression he used whenever explaining something he believed I was too unsophisticated to understand.<\/p>\n
\u201cPresentation matters.\u201d<\/p>\n
I glanced at Mom.<\/p>\n
She avoided my eyes.<\/p>\n
That hurt more than Trent\u2019s criticism.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you want another cake,\u201d I said, \u201corder one.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom looked alarmed.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe party starts in three hours.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen I guess we\u2019re using this one.\u201d<\/p>\n
Trent chuckled.<\/p>\n
\u201cRelax. Nobody\u2019s attacking you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m relaxed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou never sound relaxed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m standing beside a vanilla cake. It\u2019s hard to imagine a less dangerous situation.\u201d<\/p>\n
He grinned.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s better.\u201d<\/p>\n
I left them in the kitchen.<\/p>\n
Upstairs, I changed into dark trousers and a plain navy shirt.<\/p>\n
I owned suits that cost several thousand dollars.<\/p>\n
They hung in a secured wardrobe at another property my family didn\u2019t know existed.<\/p>\n
For the anniversary, I wore clothing they had seen before.<\/p>\n
Habit had become instinct.<\/p>\n
By five thirty, the house no longer looked like the place where I had spent years sleeping beneath the floor.<\/p>\n
Flowers covered the dining-room sideboard.<\/p>\n
Small lights glowed along the patio.<\/p>\n
A rented bar had been installed near the living room.<\/p>\n
The photographer moved furniture by inches and frowned at lamps.<\/p>\n
Mom floated from room to room adjusting details no guest would notice.<\/p>\n
Dad came downstairs in a charcoal suit.<\/p>\n
He saw me near the entryway.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat what you\u2019re wearing?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked down.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
He studied me.<\/p>\n
Then, apparently deciding the subject was not worth pursuing, he adjusted his cuff.<\/p>\n
\u201cHelp your mother with the chairs.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAlready done.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe extra glasses?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSet out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTrash bags?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGarage.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
Not thank you.<\/p>\n
Just confirmation that another task had been completed.<\/p>\n
Guests began arriving.<\/p>\n
Aunts.<\/p>\n
Uncles.<\/p>\n
Neighbors.<\/p>\n
People from Dad\u2019s office.<\/p>\n
Several of Trent\u2019s contacts.<\/p>\n
The house filled with perfume, wet coats, wine and overlapping voices.<\/p>\n
I poured drinks when the bartender was occupied.<\/p>\n
I took an elderly cousin\u2019s coat.<\/p>\n
I replaced a burned-out bulb near the back hallway without anyone asking.<\/p>\n
Most people greeted me warmly enough.<\/p>\n
A few relatives asked the same questions they always asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cStill at home?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStill doing night work?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSome nights.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll figure things out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sure I will.\u201d<\/p>\n
One of Dad\u2019s Vanguard colleagues, a man named Robert Caldwell, shook my hand longer than necessary.<\/p>\n
I had seen him before.<\/p>\n
Tall. Silver-haired. Controlled.<\/p>\n
His gaze rested on me with unexpected concentration.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Caldwell.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father says you work nights.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAt Vanguard?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy contractor handles work there.\u201d<\/p>\n
His eyes stayed on mine.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou must see quite a bit of the building after hours.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was an odd comment.<\/p>\n
\u201cMostly empty hallways.\u201d<\/p>\n
Caldwell smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cProbably for the best.\u201d<\/p>\n
Before I could ask what he meant, Dad approached.<\/p>\n
\u201cRobert. There you are.\u201d<\/p>\n
The two men exchanged a look so brief I nearly missed it.<\/p>\n
Then Dad put a hand against Caldwell\u2019s back and guided him toward the bar.<\/p>\n
I watched them leave.<\/p>\n
Something about that moment lodged in my memory.<\/p>\n
At the time, I did not know why.<\/p>\n
Dinner began at seven.<\/p>\n
The caterers served salmon, roasted vegetables, potatoes and a salad Mom had changed twice during planning.<\/p>\n
I sat near the far end of the table beside an aunt who spent twenty minutes describing her neighbor\u2019s property dispute.<\/p>\n
Across the room, Trent entertained three guests with a story about a negotiation he had recently handled.<\/p>\n
Dad laughed loudly.<\/p>\n
Mom looked delighted.<\/p>\n
I ate quietly.<\/p>\n
After dinner, Dad stood with a champagne glass.<\/p>\n
The room settled.<\/p>\n
He looked at Mom.<\/p>\n
For once, the sternness left his face completely.<\/p>\n
He spoke about meeting her at twenty-four, getting lost on their first road trip, buying their first home with almost no furniture, raising two sons, surviving job changes and illnesses and difficult years.<\/p>\n
Mom\u2019s eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n
I found myself smiling.<\/p>\n
That was the father I remembered from childhood.<\/p>\n
Not the man who measured everything.<\/p>\n
Just Dad.<\/p>\n
When he finished, everyone applauded.<\/p>\n
Mom stood next.<\/p>\n
Her speech was longer.<\/p>\n
She talked about loyalty.<\/p>\n
About staying together when life became difficult.<\/p>\n
About family being the one place a person should always belong.<\/p>\n
That sentence landed strangely.<\/p>\n
I looked down at my hands.<\/p>\n
Three years earlier, I might have felt angry.<\/p>\n
Now I mostly felt tired.<\/p>\n
Then Trent rose.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wasn\u2019t planning to say anything.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was almost certainly untrue.<\/p>\n
People laughed.<\/p>\n
He raised his glass toward our parents.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think most people here know how much these two have shaped me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom smiled.<\/p>\n
Dad nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey taught me what hard work looks like. What standards look like. What it means to build something instead of expecting life to give you something.\u201d<\/p>\n
A few people murmured agreement.<\/p>\n
Then Trent\u2019s eyes moved toward me.<\/p>\n
I knew what was coming before he opened his mouth.<\/p>\n
\u201cSome of us learned those lessons faster than others.\u201d<\/p>\n
Laughter moved around the room.<\/p>\n
Not everyone laughed.<\/p>\n
But enough did.<\/p>\n
My aunt beside me shifted uncomfortably.<\/p>\n
Trent grinned as though this were harmless brotherly teasing.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on, Ethan. You know I love you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I raised my glass.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo I?\u201d<\/p>\n
The laughter stopped.<\/p>\n
Trent blinked.<\/p>\n
Dad gave me a warning look.<\/p>\n
I could have said more.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
Trent recovered quickly.<\/p>\n
\u201cTo Mom and Dad.\u201d<\/p>\n
Glasses lifted.<\/p>\n
\u201cTo family.\u201d<\/p>\n
Everyone repeated it.<\/p>\n
I heard myself say the words too.<\/p>\n
\u201cTo family.\u201d<\/p>\n
The cake came out fifteen minutes later.<\/p>\n
The photographer asked my parents to stand together behind it.<\/p>\n
Mom put one hand against Dad\u2019s chest.<\/p>\n
Dad leaned closer.<\/p>\n
For a moment, framed behind the cake with their younger selves printed on top, they looked almost exactly like the couple in the old photograph.<\/p>\n
The camera flashed.<\/p>\n
Guests clapped.<\/p>\n
Mom picked up the knife.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan made this,\u201d one of my cousins said.<\/p>\n
Several people turned toward me.<\/p>\n
Mom smiled thinly.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. He did.\u201d<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t tell whether she was proud or apologizing.<\/p>\n
She cut the first slice.<\/p>\n
Then another for Dad.<\/p>\n
Plates moved around the room.<\/p>\n
I stayed near the wall.<\/p>\n
An older neighbor took a bite.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is wonderful.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n
My aunt agreed.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot too sweet. I like that.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders.<\/p>\n
Trent ate his quickly without comment.<\/p>\n
Dad took several bites.<\/p>\n
Then Mom tasted hers.<\/p>\n
She chewed.<\/p>\n
Her expression changed.<\/p>\n
She put down the fork.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is too sweet.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
The recipe had less sugar than almost every anniversary cake she had shown me.<\/p>\n
Still, I said, \u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n
She pushed the plate away.<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you I wanted something elegant.\u201d<\/p>\n
The room became quieter.<\/p>\n
A few conversations continued deliberately.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom,\u201d I said, \u201cif you don\u2019t like it, that\u2019s fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s not about liking it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is it about?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her cheeks had reddened.<\/p>\n
Perhaps she was embarrassed by the homemade cake.<\/p>\n
Perhaps Trent\u2019s comments had gotten inside her head.<\/p>\n
Perhaps she had spent so long trying to make the evening perfect that one imperfect detail felt unbearable.<\/p>\n
Whatever the reason, I watched her become the version of herself I knew best.<\/p>\n
The version that cared most about how our family appeared from outside.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew how important tonight was.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI spent two days making that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. I don\u2019t think you do.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad stepped closer.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
His face already carried the expression.<\/p>\n
Don\u2019t make this difficult.<\/p>\n
Trent leaned toward me.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust let it go.\u201d<\/p>\n
I almost laughed.<\/p>\n
Of course.<\/p>\n
Mom stood and lifted the cake board.<\/p>\n
At first, I assumed she was moving it into the kitchen.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are you taking it?\u201d<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n
She crossed the room.<\/p>\n
I followed.<\/p>\n
The large kitchen trash container stood near the counter because the caterers had been using it.<\/p>\n
Mom opened the lid.<\/p>\n
For one second, nobody moved.<\/p>\n
I understood what she intended only when she tilted the cake.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n
The three layers slid from the board.<\/p>\n
The little wedding photograph disappeared first.<\/p>\n
Then the berries.<\/p>\n
Then the cream and sponge collapsed into the black trash bag with a soft, ugly weight.<\/p>\n
Someone behind me inhaled sharply.<\/p>\n
The room went silent.<\/p>\n
Mom placed the empty board on the counter.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared into the trash.<\/p>\n
Two days of work.<\/p>\n
The photograph.<\/p>\n
The careful lettering.<\/p>\n
Thirty-five years \u2014 together.<\/p>\n
Half of the top tier had broken against a paper plate.<\/p>\n
I waited for anger.<\/p>\n
It did not come.<\/p>\n
Something inside me simply went quiet.<\/p>\n
Trent gave an uneasy laugh.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan, don\u2019t look like that. It\u2019s cake.\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned toward him.<\/p>\n
He stopped smiling.<\/p>\n
I looked at Mom.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
She folded her arms.<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you tonight mattered.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI made it because tonight mattered.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd I appreciated the effort.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, you didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her expression hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t start this here.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad stepped between us slightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan. Not tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother is emotional.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo am I.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen take a minute.\u201d<\/p>\n
I glanced around the kitchen doorway.<\/p>\n
Guests were pretending not to stare.<\/p>\n
The photographer had lowered his camera.<\/p>\n
My aunt looked horrified.<\/p>\n
Caldwell stood near the back of the room, watching my father rather than me.<\/p>\n
That detail registered somewhere beneath everything else.<\/p>\n
I returned my attention to Dad.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou watched her do that.\u201d<\/p>\n
His jaw tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s only a cake.\u201d<\/p>\n
There it was.<\/p>\n
Not cruelty loud enough to make a scene.<\/p>\n
Something worse.<\/p>\n
Dismissal.<\/p>\n
The same thing I had lived beneath for years.<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re right.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad seemed relieved.<\/p>\n
Trent exhaled.<\/p>\n
Mom looked away.<\/p>\n
They all thought the moment had passed.<\/p>\n
It had.<\/p>\n
Just not in the way they believed.<\/p>\n
I walked downstairs.<\/p>\n
The basement looked exactly as it had the night I learned I held the winning ticket.<\/p>\n
Same low ceiling.<\/p>\n
Same little window.<\/p>\n
Same bed.<\/p>\n
Same desk.<\/p>\n
But I was no longer the man who had sat there waiting to discover whether his family might someday see him differently.<\/p>\n
I pulled a suitcase from the storage closet.<\/p>\n
I packed quietly.<\/p>\n
Shirts.<\/p>\n
Jeans.<\/p>\n
Work clothes.<\/p>\n
A few books.<\/p>\n
Personal documents.<\/p>\n
The old photograph of my grandmother that had been on my desk for years.<\/p>\n
I left almost everything else.<\/p>\n
Money had taught me something I had resisted admitting.<\/p>\n
I could buy distance.<\/p>\n
But until that night, I had never permitted myself to use it.<\/p>\n
When the suitcase was full, I sat on the bed.<\/p>\n
My phone showed three missed calls from Ms. Vance.<\/p>\n
I called her.<\/p>\n
She answered immediately.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you all right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t sound all right.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m leaving the house.\u201d<\/p>\n
A pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cTonight?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBy morning.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid something happen?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked toward the ceiling.<\/p>\n
Muted laughter had begun again upstairs.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother threw away the anniversary cake.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was a long silence.<\/p>\n
Finally Miranda said, \u201cI suspect this isn\u2019t actually about cake.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere do you want to go?\u201d<\/p>\n
The question hit me harder than I expected.<\/p>\n
For years, nobody in my family had asked that.<\/p>\n
Where do you want to go?<\/p>\n
I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe Lake Washington property.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve never stayed there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll have it prepared.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo staff.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSecurity.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVehicle?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked toward the tiny basement window.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m done hiding everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
Another pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow done?\u201d<\/p>\n
I thought about Trent\u2019s laugh.<\/p>\n
Mom dropping the cake.<\/p>\n
Dad telling me not to make trouble.<\/p>\n
\u201cBring the Bugatti.\u201d<\/p>\n
For the first time since I had known her, Ms. Vance actually laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is extremely unlike you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTomorrow seems like a good day to try something new.\u201d<\/p>\n
After we hung up, I carried the suitcase upstairs.<\/p>\n
The party was thinning out.<\/p>\n
Mom stood near the dining room speaking with a friend.<\/p>\n
Dad was stacking unopened wine.<\/p>\n
Trent was checking his phone.<\/p>\n
I placed the suitcase beside the front door.<\/p>\n
Mom noticed first.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy things.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her brows drew together.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m leaving.\u201d<\/p>\n
Trent looked up.<\/p>\n
Dad stopped moving.<\/p>\n
Mom stared at me as though I had announced I was going for a walk.<\/p>\n
\u201cTonight?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBy morning.\u201d<\/p>\n
She blinked.<\/p>\n
Then she said the word that ended whatever uncertainty remained.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was all.<\/p>\n
No question about where I would sleep.<\/p>\n
No concern about whether I had somewhere safe to go.<\/p>\n
No request to talk after the guests left.<\/p>\n
Just okay.<\/p>\n
I waited several seconds anyway.<\/p>\n
Dad looked uncomfortable but said nothing.<\/p>\n
Trent slipped his phone into his pocket.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan, don\u2019t turn this into some dramatic thing because of dessert.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt isn\u2019t because of dessert.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat, then?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cThree years from now, you still wouldn\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n
His face tightened.<\/p>\n
Mom sighed.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan we please discuss this tomorrow?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe don\u2019t need to discuss it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I picked up the suitcase.<\/p>\n
Dad finally spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d<\/p>\n
I almost smiled.<\/p>\n
There it was.<\/p>\n
The question I had wanted.<\/p>\n
Too late.<\/p>\n
\u201cSomewhere else.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have money?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow much?\u201d<\/p>\n
Enough to change the expression on every face in this house.<\/p>\n
I kept that answer to myself.<\/p>\n
\u201cEnough.\u201d<\/p>\n
I carried the suitcase back downstairs for the night because I had decided to leave properly in the morning.<\/p>\n
At five forty, before sunrise fully reached the windows, I walked out with one suitcase.<\/p>\n
My old sedan remained parked at the curb.<\/p>\n
I left the keys on the kitchen counter.<\/p>\n
The neighborhood was silent.<\/p>\n
I walked six blocks to a coffee shop and sat near the window while morning arrived.<\/p>\n
At eight twelve, my phone vibrated.<\/p>\n
Ms. Vance.<\/p>\n
Three words.<\/p>\n
Vehicle is approaching.<\/p>\n
I finished my coffee.<\/p>\n
At eight fifteen, I walked back toward my parents\u2019 street.<\/p>\n
The sound reached the corner before the car appeared.<\/p>\n
Low.<\/p>\n
Controlled.<\/p>\n
Impossible to mistake for my old sedan.<\/p>\n
A matte-black Bugatti turned onto the street and slowed in front of my parents\u2019 house.<\/p>\n
Curtains moved in neighboring windows.<\/p>\n
The driver stepped out and handed me the key.<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Carter.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood beside the car for a moment.<\/p>\n
Then the front door opened.<\/p>\n
Mom appeared.<\/p>\n
She froze.<\/p>\n
Dad came up behind her.<\/p>\n
Trent stepped into the hallway.<\/p>\n
All three stared at the car.<\/p>\n
Then at me.<\/p>\n
No one laughed.<\/p>\n
For the first time in years, I had my family\u2019s complete attention.<\/p>\n
And before any of them could speak, I realized something far more important.<\/p>\n
I no longer needed it.<\/p>\n
\u201cSeriously?\u201d Trent set the wine on the kitchen counter and walked toward the cake. Mom\u2019s expression changed almost immediately. The softness disappeared. \u201cWhat?\u201d I asked. \u201cYou actually made it.\u201d \u201cI … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":3404,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3408","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-readmore"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3408","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3408"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3408\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3423,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3408\/revisions\/3423"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/3404"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3408"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3408"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3408"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}