\u201cWhose name is on that account?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A brief pause.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cVanessa Hayes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The kitchen fell dead silent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus hung up and set his phone on the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy the hell is my mother\u2019s money being diverted into your private account?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa took a jagged breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt was only supposed to be temporary.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFor eight months?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was going to put it back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cUsing what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe kitchen remodel went way over budget. My sister needed a loan. We took that ski trip to Aspen. And the gala tickets were more expensive this year.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou stole forty thousand dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI borrowed it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFrom my mother.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe never needed much anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The words were spoken so quietly. That only made it sting more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa went on, \u201cHelen owns this house outright. She collects Social Security. She doesn\u2019t even have a mortgage. Five grand a month was excessive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat wasn\u2019t for you to decide,\u201d Marcus snapped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe was just going to let it sit there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI spent the entire winter wearing two sweaters indoors because I couldn\u2019t afford heating oil,\u201d I said softly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa glanced at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t know that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou never bothered to ask.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus was scrolling through his emails, likely pulling up the statements David had just forwarded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThree grand at a luxury resort. Twelve hundred at the country club. Six grand at a jewelry boutique.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His eyes slowly dragged up to the string of pearls around Vanessa\u2019s neck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDid you buy those with that account?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her hand flew to her throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI needed accessories for your corporate dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy mother skipped her heart medication so you could parade around in pearls?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t phrase it like that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow the hell else should I phrase it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m your wife.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd she is my mother.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa\u2019s jaw clenched.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThere it is. That\u2019s always your trump card.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat is that supposed to mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt means I\u2019m always second place. Every time you lecture me about hard work or sacrifice, it\u2019s a story about her. Every time I mess up, I have to hear about how your saintly mother would never do such a thing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at Marcus. He stared at the floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe he had drawn comparisons. But jealousy didn\u2019t put food on the table. Jealousy didn\u2019t force an old woman to cut pills with a kitchen knife.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus locked eyes with his wife.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDid you stop the transfers just because you were bitter?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAt first, I just diverted one month. I figured I\u2019d replace it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd then?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen\u2026 nobody noticed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I understood exactly how it happened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nobody checked. Nobody asked. So it became easy to do it again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus\u2019s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat else did you do?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa stayed silent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat else, Vanessa?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My mind drifted to Christmas. I had roasted a small chicken and set the table for three. Marcus never showed up. Vanessa had called that morning claiming he was down with a terrible flu.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDid you tell him I didn\u2019t want him here for the holidays?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus spun around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLast Christmas. She called and told me you had a 102-degree fever.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI wasn\u2019t sick.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She had told him I wanted a quiet Christmas alone because I was feeling fatigued.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI never said that,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus glared at Vanessa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI tried calling you twice that day, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy phone didn\u2019t ring once.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa sank into a chair. The guilt was plastered all over her face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou blocked his number on my phone,\u201d I realized aloud.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJust for a weekend.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus lunged for her phone. She yanked it back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGive me that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cUnlock the screen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus hit redial on his own phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDavid. Freeze every single joint account and credit card Vanessa has access to. Immediately.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her face went chalk white.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou can\u2019t do that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI already did.\u201d He ended the call.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDid you send emails pretending to be Mom?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa looked down at her lap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat did they say?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus\u2019s voice was hoarse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey said you needed space. That you didn\u2019t want me hovering.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMarcus, I would never write that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI see that now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked so shattered that my first instinct was to pull him into a hug and comfort him. That was always my default. Protect Marcus. Protect his marriage. Absorb the pain so no one else had to feel uncomfortable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But this time, I didn\u2019t move.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa started sobbing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was just so sick of sharing you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t have to steal my son to keep him,\u201d I said quietly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t steal him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou intercepted his calls, canceled his visits, and pocketed the money he sent to keep a roof over my head. What else do you call it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI felt like a ghost in my own marriage.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo you turned me into a ghost in my son\u2019s life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She buried her face in her hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus pulled out a chair and sat heavily.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDid it ever cross your mind that she might be starving?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDid you ever wonder why she stopped coming into the city for Sunday dinners?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe claimed the drive was too exhausting,\u201d Vanessa mumbled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI said that because I didn\u2019t have gas money,\u201d I corrected her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus squeezed his eyes shut.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I thought back to all the excuses I had fed him. The weather is too icy. My arthritis is acting up. The Buick is making a funny noise. Every lie protected his peace of mind. But they also protected Vanessa\u2019s theft.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He turned to me, his eyes red.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you just tell me, Mom?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re building a company. You\u2019re busy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI would have driven down.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou had just opened the new branch.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI would have come.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou sounded so stressed on the phone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI would have come.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His voice finally broke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked down at my worn hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhen your dad walked out, you were ten years old. You heard him scream that we were a financial burden. From that day on, I swore to God I would never make you feel like you were responsible for me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus got up, walked around the table, and knelt on the linoleum beside my chair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou are not a burden, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s easy to say that when you aren\u2019t the one begging for a handout.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He took my hands in his.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMom, you were starving.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou were rationing your heart pills.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I nodded again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd you still suffered in silence.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI thought staying quiet was a way of loving you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tears spilled down his cheeks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt wasn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I admitted. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus stood up tall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTake off the necklace.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa sniffled, looking up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe pearls. Take them off.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey were an anniversary gift.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey were paid for with my mother\u2019s blood pressure medication. Take them off.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
With trembling fingers, she undid the gold clasp and let the pearls slide onto the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then Marcus twisted his platinum wedding band off his finger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa gasped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI want you out of our house.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMarcus, please don\u2019t do this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGo stay with your sister in Chicago.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re throwing away our marriage over a financial mistake?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo. I\u2019m throwing it away because you sat across from me at dinner every night letting me believe my mother was safe. You watched her vanish from my life, and every single day you woke up and chose to maintain a cruel lie.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI promised myself I\u2019d pay it back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou can\u2019t refund a stolen Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She looked at me, pleading.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHelen, please. Say something.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at the brown paper bags of charity food.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I remembered the shame of standing in the pantry line behind women I used to play bingo with, praying nobody would ask why I was there. I remembered gripping a paring knife to slice a tiny white pill, praying the half-dose would keep my heart beating.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou need to leave,\u201d I said firmly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa stared at me, aghast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI made one mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo. You made a choice on the first of every month. And then you made a dozen more choices to cover your tracks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She snatched her purse. Halfway to the door, she stopped and shot a glare over her shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI hope ruining my life was worth it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at her tailored silk blouse, her bare neck, and the shimmering pearls resting on my scratched linoleum table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNone of this was worth it,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The front door clicked shut behind her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a long time, Marcus and I just sat in the quiet kitchen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eventually, he walked over and opened the fridge. Inside sat three eggs, a half-empty bottle of yellow mustard, some applesauce, and a plastic container of church soup.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He gripped the handle so hard his knuckles turned white.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThis is it? This is all you have to eat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was planning to visit the food bank tomorrow morning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He pushed the door closed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI bought a custom Rolex last month.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked out the window.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI agonized over the dial color for two hours while you were surviving on three eggs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMarcus\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo. Please, Mom. Let me feel this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He wiped his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI am so sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt was my job to know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI went out of my way to make sure you didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBecause I convinced myself the silence would protect you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He squeezed my shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt only protected her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That afternoon, Marcus drove me to the local CVS and paid cash for a three-month supply of every prescription I had.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Next, we went to the Whole Foods in town.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I reached for a store-brand box of oatmeal and a can of chicken noodle soup. He gently took them from my hands and put them back on the shelf.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat are you hungry for?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI just need food.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not what I asked.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For almost a year, my brain was wired to only look at the bottom shelf, at the clearance tags. Wanting something that tasted good felt like a luxury I didn\u2019t deserve.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Slowly, I picked up a carton of fresh raspberries.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus smiled, though his eyes were sad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou used to buy these for Sunday brunches.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey just got too pricey.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He grabbed five more cartons and dropped them into the cart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We filled the basket with artisan bread, premium cuts of chicken, organic vegetables, a bag of good coffee, and the lemon shortbread cookies I hadn\u2019t eaten since he was in high school.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When the cashier rang us up, I started crying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The teenager behind the register looked panicked. Marcus wrapped his arm around my shoulders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI just forgot what a full grocery cart looked like,\u201d I told him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Over the next few weeks, the full scope of the deception came to light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vanessa had altered the banking details while Marcus was out of the country on business. She set up a fake email account with my name and sent him periodic updates, thanking him for the cash and insisting I was too busy with my garden club for visits.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She had deleted three voicemails I left him and temporarily blocked my number whenever she knew he was working late.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A bunch of small, calculated lies. Together, they stole nearly a year of our lives.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marcus\u2019s attorneys managed to recoup the full forty thousand from Vanessa\u2019s personal savings, her car sale, and her jewelry appraisals. He formally filed for divorce.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I told him not to press criminal charges for fraud, provided she paid every cent back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He couldn\u2019t comprehend it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe knew exactly what she was doing, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe could have caused you to have a stroke.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen why let her off the hook?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m not doing it for her. I\u2019m doing it to protect whatever peace I have left.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A few months later, a typed letter arrived in the mail from Vanessa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It contained no excuses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She admitted she was in therapy. She confessed she had always felt intimidated by the bond Marcus and I shared. She viewed love as a finite pie, and every slice he gave me meant fewer crumbs for her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Stealing the first payment felt like claiming her territory. The second was easier. By the third month, she had convinced herself the money was rightfully hers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Toward the end, she wrote a sentence that haunted me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I suspected you were struggling, but I was too much of a coward to ask, because I already knew the answer.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I folded the letter up and put it in a drawer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I didn\u2019t forgive her that day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Forgiveness isn\u2019t a door you can just kick open. Most of the time, it\u2019s a rusty window you have to pry open an inch at a time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Marcus paid a contractor to fix my leaky roof and install a brand-new furnace. He set up the monthly $5,000 allowance as a direct deposit into a trust that only I could access.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I argued that five grand was too much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThen spend what you need and figure out something good to do with the rest,\u201d he told me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So I did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I kept enough to cover my groceries, copays, utilities, and taxes. Then, I wrote a large check to Hope Creek Church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mrs. Higgins stared at the zeros.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHelen, my goodness. This could feed half the county.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat\u2019s exactly the point.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n We established a community outreach program specifically for seniors who were rationing meds, skipping meals, or hiding utility shut-off notices from their busy children.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We named it the Silver Lining Fund.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Our very first recipient was an eighty-two-year-old retired mechanic named Thomas. He had been eating saltine crackers for dinner to afford his wife\u2019s chemotherapy copays.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When I handed him a prepaid grocery card, he broke down in tears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI just hate feeling like a burden,\u201d he wept.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I squeezed his calloused hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNeeding a little help doesn\u2019t make you a burden, Thomas.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I knew that for a fact. I had spent eight agonizing months learning it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That Christmas, Marcus arrived at my house before the sun even came up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He brought down a dusty cardboard box of ornaments from the attic. We hung up the macaroni star he made in the third grade, and we accidentally burned the first batch of cinnamon rolls because we were too busy catching up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n While we ate lunch, he slid a white envelope across the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Inside was a holiday card containing his new direct phone numbers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At the very bottom, he had scrawled:<\/p>\n\n\n\n No more emails. No more middlemen. No more guessing. If you need me, call me.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I looked across the table at my son.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The kitchen was still dated. The hardwood floors still creaked. The scratch in the linoleum was still there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But the refrigerator was packed full.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My pill bottles weren\u2019t filled with broken halves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And for the first time in nearly a year, I wasn\u2019t eating alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Marcus reached across the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIs everything enough now?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He wasn\u2019t talking about the money anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I wrapped my fingers around his.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes,\u201d I smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then I glanced down at the two overflowing plates of food between us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNow it is.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cWhose name is on that account?\u201d A brief pause. \u201cVanessa Hayes.\u201d The kitchen fell dead silent. Marcus hung up and set his phone on the table. \u201cWhy… <\/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-5351","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5351","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5351"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5351\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5354,"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5351\/revisions\/5354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5351"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5351"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5351"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}