The next day was the family lunch at his mother\u2019s house in Bellevue. I didn\u2019t want to go, but Paige had insisted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNot to take any more abuse,\u201d she told me. \u201cTo let them speak.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She taped a small voice recorder inside the lining of my purse and made me repeat three times:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m not signing anything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAgain,\u201d she commanded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m not signing anything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd if they pressure you, you say you feel sick and you call me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I drove to Bellevue with my hands sweating on the steering wheel. I passed the massive, glittering skyscrapers of downtown, which loomed over the highway like silent witnesses. As a kid, I thought they looked like grand, beautiful guardians; that day, they just looked like judges.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alice\u2019s house smelled of rosemary-roasted lamb, heavy perfume, and expensive lilies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the living room, Derek\u2019s aunts, his cousins, two neighbors who always knew way too much, and a table full of dishes no one dared touch until the matriarch gave the word. Seeing me walk in, they all smiled with that fake, patronizing tenderness people use when they look at pregnant women, as if we\u2019d lost our ability to think.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMorgan, dear,\u201d Alice said, opening her arms. \u201cSo glad you came. You look absolutely exhausted.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s the pregnancy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOr the worries,\u201d she replied, patting my arm. \u201cThat\u2019s why we need to settle everything before the baby arrives.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There it was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They didn\u2019t wait five minutes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Derek walked out of the kitchen in a crisp white shirt, looking the part of the exemplary husband. He kissed me on the forehead. Not on the lips. On the forehead, like I was a sick child.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEverything okay?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He studied me, searching for rage, tears, or a confrontation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I gave him nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We sat down to eat. They talked about the rain, the traffic on I-405, a cousin moving to Florida, an aunt who swore no one cooked pot roast like they used to. I nodded, ate tiny bites, and counted lies like coins on a table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One.
The company is struggling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Two.
There\u2019s no money for the crib.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Three.
Vanessa is \u201cjust a coworker.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Four.
The additional credit card is for \u201cemergencies.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Five.
His mother wants to \u201cprotect us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When they served dessert, Alice pulled out a beige folder. She didn\u2019t hide it. She placed it right next to my plate, over the embroidered tablecloth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMorgan, since we\u2019re all family, Attorney Casta\u00f1eda is here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A bald man in a tan suit raised a hand from the armchair. I hadn\u2019t even noticed him walk in. I felt my daughter kick inside me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAttorney for what?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Derek smiled. \u201cIt\u2019s a notary, babe. Mom already told you about this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe told me about a formality. Not about signing something today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alice let out a soft, airy laugh. \u201cOh, sweetie, don\u2019t be so distrustful. It\u2019s an asset protection plan. If something happens to you during delivery\u2014God forbid\u2014Derek needs the power to manage the condo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The cake turned to ash in my mouth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe condo is in my name.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s exactly why,\u201d Derek said, lowering his voice. \u201cWe\u2019re a family. It makes no sense for everything to be stuck in your name.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Stuck in my name.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As if I were a bureaucratic hurdle. As if my body, my pregnancy, and my home were obstacles in his path.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The attorney opened the folder. \u201cIt\u2019s a conditional assignment and an administrative authorization. Nothing out of the ordinary.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked him straight in the eyes. \u201cAre you aware that I am seven months pregnant and being asked to sign without having read the document beforehand?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He adjusted his glasses. \u201cMa\u2019am, I\u2019m not here to pressure you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen close the folder.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A heavy silence fell over the room. Alice set her spoon down with a sharp clack.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMorgan, don\u2019t make this difficult.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Derek leaned toward me. \u201cSign it, please. Don\u2019t make me talk about your \u2018crises.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was the threat. I took a breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy crises?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve been unstable lately. You blocked the cards. You\u2019re hiding things. You don\u2019t trust anyone. I don\u2019t want to say it like this, but the pregnancy is affecting you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Aunt Chayo murmured, \u201cPoor thing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I wanted to scream. But Paige had told me that cheaters feel safe when they think a woman has lost control. So, I smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re right, Derek. Maybe I am just sensitive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His shoulders relaxed. Alice smiled. The notary turned the document toward me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSign here and here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I took the pen. I held it for a second. Then, I laid it on the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFirst, I want to know who Vanessa is.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The entire house froze. Derek blinked. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cVanessa. The one with the baby shower. The one having \u2018our\u2019 baby. The one you transferred $2,500 to by mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A cousin put her hand over her mouth. Alice turned pale, but only for a second. Derek stood up. \u201cLet\u2019s go talk outside.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMorgan.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I pulled out my phone and placed the screenshot on the table. The memo line glowed brightly between the dessert plates:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFor Vanessa\u2019s baby shower and our baby. I love you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nobody breathed. Alice was the first to find her tongue. \u201cThat doesn\u2019t mean what you think it means.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I laughed softly. \u201cHow curious. Every lie in this family comes with an instruction manual.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Derek clenched his fists. \u201cVanessa is pregnant, yes. But it was a mistake. I was going to tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It hurt. Even though I knew, it hurt. It is one thing to read a betrayal on a screen; it is another to hear it in his own voice, at a table where everyone had eaten my food, used my home for holidays, and called me \u201cdaughter\u201d when it suited them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow many months along is she?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He didn\u2019t answer. Alice did. \u201cFive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I felt a sharp pain low in my belly. I grabbed the back of the chair. \u201cFive?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Derek took a step. \u201cMorgan, calm down.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I raised my hand. \u201cDon\u2019t touch me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The notary nervously closed the folder. \u201cI think this should be postponed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou are staying,\u201d I said. \u201cBecause I want you to hear something.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I opened a folder on my phone. First, I played the text from Vanessa: \u201cYour mom said she\u2019d convince Morgan to sign the house papers after the delivery.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then, another receipt. A purchase at a baby boutique in downtown Seattle with my authorized user card. A stroller. An imported crib. A maternity dress. Everything charged to my account.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alice blurted out, \u201cThat can be explained.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cExplain it, then.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She couldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Derek tried to grab my phone. My brother-in-law, Rodrigo, stood up to stop him. \u201cThat\u2019s enough, Derek.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStay out of this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re looking worse by the second.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at Rodrigo. We were never close. But that afternoon, his eyes held genuine shame.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alice slammed the table. \u201cEnough! Morgan, you are not going to destroy my son over a slip-up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That was when the fear vanished.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt wasn\u2019t a slip-up. It was an entire family planning to leave me penniless, homeless, and voiceless.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re crazy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo. I\u2019m recording.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The word left a vacuum in the room. Derek stood perfectly still. Alice stared at my purse. The notary stood up. \u201cI did not participate in any undue pressure.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen say right here that you didn\u2019t see me read the document before you wanted me to sign.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He swallowed hard. \u201cI can\u2019t attest to that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Derek moved toward me, his face beet red. \u201cTurn that off.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTurn it off or you\u2019ll regret it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My daughter kicked hard, as if she were knocking on a door from the inside. And I understood something. Up until that moment, I thought I needed to protect myself to be a mother. But it was the other way around: being a mother was teaching me how to protect myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I grabbed my purse and walked toward the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alice grabbed my arm. \u201cYou aren\u2019t leaving here with my granddaughter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at her slowly. \u201cLet go of me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat child is Derek\u2019s, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBut she isn\u2019t yours.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her nails dug in deeper. Then Rodrigo intervened again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMom, let her go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShut up!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Derek blocked the door. He wasn\u2019t pretending anymore. He wasn\u2019t the tired husband or the repentant man. He was a stranger who had just lost control of an object he thought he owned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou are going to sign, Morgan.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I pulled air from wherever I could find it. \u201cIn Washington state, no-fault divorce exists. I don\u2019t need to prove anything to leave you. And after all this, I am not negotiating my safety.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He laughed. \u201cYou think a coffee-shop lawyer is going to save you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Right then, the doorbell rang. Once. Twice. Three times.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alice frowned. \u201cWho is that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I answered: \u201cMy attorney.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Paige walked in with two uniformed officers and a victim advocate she knew from other cases. They didn\u2019t come in with sirens or a scene. They came in with paperwork, active phones, and sharp eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Paige looked at me first. \u201cAre you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I nodded, though my face was crumbling. \u201cHe tried to make me sign.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Paige turned to the notary. \u201cAttorney, I hope you are very clear about what you just witnessed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He was sweating.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Derek started talking fast. That I was \u201cemotional.\u201d That his family just wanted to help. That the transfer was a \u201cmistake.\u201d That Vanessa had nothing to do with our marriage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Paige listened to it all with a calmness that was terrifying. \u201cPerfect. You can repeat all of that to the authorities.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alice stepped back. \u201cThis is an exaggeration. There was no violence here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The advocate looked at her. \u201cEconomic abuse is a form of violence, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t know a sentence that short could carry so much weight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Paige took my elbow and led me toward the exit. Before I crossed the threshold, Derek spoke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf you walk out that door, don\u2019t you ever come back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stopped. I turned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I saw him in a way I hadn\u2019t in years. Not as the love of my life. Not as the father of my child. But as a small, hollow man surrounded by people who applauded his cruelty and called it \u201ccharacter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDerek,\u201d I said, \u201cthere isn\u2019t a home left that I want to return to with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I walked out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Outside, the evening was gray. The Seattle streets smelled of wet pavement and exhaust. The skyscrapers loomed in the distance\u2014firm, indifferent, like those grand symbols one uses to get their bearings when everything else has been torn apart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I got into Paige\u2019s car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That was when I finally cried. I sobbed with my heavy belly, my trembling hands, and a throat full of everything I hadn\u2019t said at that table. Paige didn\u2019t hug me immediately. First, she buckled my seatbelt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour baby first,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then she hugged me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t sleep in my condo that night. I slept at my sister\u2019s house in Ballard, on a stiff pull-out couch with a fleece blanket and a fan that rattled like an old plane engine. My niece tucked a little prayer card under my pillow \u201cso the baby doesn\u2019t get scared.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At 3:00 AM, Derek started calling. Then came the texts.
\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d
\u201cMy mom got involved.\u201d
\u201cVanessa doesn\u2019t matter.\u201d
\u201cYou\u2019re destroying our family.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then he switched.
\u201cI\u2019m taking the baby.\u201d
\u201cYou\u2019ll see what it\u2019s like to fight me.\u201d
\u201cThat condo is mine, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Paige made me ignore them. Every text was a screenshot. Every threat, backed up. Every lie, another coin on the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The next day, we went to the District Attorney\u2019s office. I arrived with dark circles under my eyes, my belly, my evidence, and a shame that wasn\u2019t mine, but felt heavy all the same.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I met with a counselor who didn\u2019t ask me why I had put up with it for so long. She asked me what I needed to feel safe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That broke me more than any insult.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We filed for protection orders. Paige prepared the divorce papers. We changed the locks on the condo because it was in my name and Derek hadn\u2019t lived there peacefully since the night he threatened me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We also checked my credit report. That was when I saw the true size of the hole.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Derek had tried to use my information to apply for a loan. He had registered my email with a financial firm. He had listed his mother as a reference. And in a shared folder on his computer, which was still logged in on my old laptop, we found a file named:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cPlan Birth V.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside, there were price quotes for the venue, gift registries, payments, ultrasounds, and a draft document where Derek calculated how much he could get out of \u201cM\u201d after the signature.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
M.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not even my name. Just a letter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The family court hearings took weeks, but life didn\u2019t wait.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My daughter was born early. One Sunday morning, while it was pouring rain and my sister was frantically searching for the diaper bag, my water broke in the hallway. We got to the hospital in a rush of nerves and a poorly packed bag.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Derek arrived two hours later. I don\u2019t know who told him. He showed up with flowers and the face of a wounded father.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI want to be in the delivery room,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was in the hospital bed, with contractions that were tearing my back apart. I looked at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe\u2019s my daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s my delivery.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The nurse stood by my side. My sister stood by the other. Paige was on the phone, ready to burn the world down if she had to. Derek tried to argue, but the nurse looked at him the way women look at men who think they own the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe patient decides.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That sentence was my anesthesia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My daughter was born at 6:32 AM. She cried loudly. They placed her on my chest\u2014warm, purplish, and furious. She had my father\u2019s mouth and long, elegant fingers like mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHer name is Emilia,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My sister cried. I did, too. The father I imagined wasn\u2019t there. The perfect family wasn\u2019t there. But my daughter was breathing against my skin, and for the first time in months, I felt that the world could be horrible without winning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Derek met Emilia through the glass window of the nursery. Not because I was cruel, but because I was protected. That day, I understood that setting boundaries doesn\u2019t make you a bad mother. It makes you a living one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Three months later, the truth finally finished settling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa looked for me. We met at a coffee shop in Capitol Hill, near where it had all started. She arrived pregnant, wearing dark glasses and the face of someone who had just discovered she wasn\u2019t the \u201cchosen one,\u201d just the next shift.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She asked for my forgiveness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t give it to her. Not yet. But I listened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Derek had told her the company was doing badly, too. He had asked to use her card. He had promised her a house. He had told her I was unstable and that after the delivery, \u201ceverything would be resolved.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa left her own screenshots on the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m not here to fight you,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m here to testify.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at her for a long time. I wanted to hate her completely. I couldn\u2019t. Pure hatred is a luxury; real life gets everything dirty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo it,\u201d I told her. \u201cNot for me. For your baby.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her face crumbled. \u201cIt\u2019s a girl.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at my cold coffee. \u201cThen even more reason.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
With Vanessa\u2019s testimony, Rodrigo\u2019s statement, the recording from Bellevue, and Paige\u2019s documents, Derek stopped sounding like a confused, poor man and started to look like what he actually was: a sentimental con artist with two pregnant women and a mother directing the show from the shadows.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alice tried to defend herself by saying she was only protecting her son. I declared what I had thought from the beginning:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cProtecting a son doesn\u2019t mean helping him destroy women.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Everything didn\u2019t resolve quickly. Justice in America moves like a bus during rush hour\u2014it moves, it stops, it frustrates, but if you don\u2019t get off, you get further than you think.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We won the protection orders. We won temporary support. We won supervised visitation. My condo remained mine. My credit card stopped bleeding. My name felt like mine again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One day, I returned alone to the kitchen where the transfer had arrived. The table was the same. The bucket was still in the yard. There was a water stain on the wall that Derek had always promised to fix but never did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I put Emilia in her bassinet and opened my phone. I still had the screenshot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFor Vanessa\u2019s baby shower and our baby. I love you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at it without trembling. That sentence had tried to destroy me. But it ended up saving me. Because that error showed me the thread, and when I pulled it, the entire dirty shroud they had used to cover my eyes came tumbling down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Emilia made a little noise. I leaned over. Her eyes were open\u2014enormous, dark, and new.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou won\u2019t learn to stay quiet just to be loved,\u201d I told her. \u201cYou will learn that love isn\u2019t something you beg for with receipts, or prove by signing papers, or sustain by paying other people\u2019s debts.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Outside, it started to rain again. The city smelled of wet soil, fresh bread, and warm wires. In some apartment, someone put on music. On the street, a vendor shouted that he had hot corn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I heated water for chamomile tea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This time, I didn\u2019t wait for any man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I sat with my daughter nearby, my documents organized in a folder, and my full name written on the cover:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Morgan Thorne.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mother of Emilia.
Owner of my home.
Owner of my voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And for the first time in a long time, when I counted the coins on the table, they weren\u2019t lies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They were proof that I had survived.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The next day was the family lunch at his mother\u2019s house in Bellevue. I didn\u2019t want to go, but Paige had insisted. \u201cNot to take any more… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-213","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ustinh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/213","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ustinh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ustinh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ustinh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ustinh.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=213"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/ustinh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/213\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":246,"href":"https:\/\/ustinh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/213\/revisions\/246"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ustinh.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=213"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ustinh.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=213"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ustinh.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=213"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}