Dad had told me I was unwanted. But Mom had just admitted something far worse. They had deliberately excluded me, planned it for days, and expected me to pretend nothing had happened.
\nI sat in my car outside the community center, staring at the Christmas decorations hanging from the streetlights.
\n\u201cMom,\u201d I finally said, \u201cwere you ever going to tell me?\u201d
\nShe hesitated. \u201cWe thought you would understand eventually.\u201d
\n\u201cUnderstand what? That my own family celebrated Christmas without me while I was buying desserts for everyone?\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019re making this sound cruel.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cThen explain how it was kind.\u201d
\nShe had no answer.
\nInstead, I heard Dad shouting something in the background. A moment later, he grabbed the phone.
\n\u201cListen carefully,\u201d he snapped. \u201cYou made a promise about that house. You don\u2019t get to break your word because your feelings are hurt.\u201d
\nI almost laughed.
\n\u201cYou mean the promise I made to give you a $285,000 house?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd what promise did you make to treat me like your daughter?\u201d
\nSilence.
\nThen he said something that finally made everything clear.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cYour sister never puts us through this.\u201d
\nLeah.
\nMy younger sister, the one everyone protected, defended, and excused.
\nFor years, I had been the responsible daughter. When Dad\u2019s truck needed repairs, I paid. When Mom needed help with medical bills, I helped. When Leah needed money after her divorce, I quietly covered three months of rent.
\nYet somehow, I was the difficult one.
\n\u201cThen perhaps Leah can buy you a house,\u201d I said.
\nDad\u2019s breathing changed.
\n\u201cYou\u2019re being ridiculous.\u201d
\n\u201cNo, Dad. I\u2019m finally being reasonable.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I ended the call.
\nFor the first time in years, I didn\u2019t feel the immediate urge to apologize.
\nI drove home, carried the unopened presents upstairs, and placed them inside my closet.
\nThen I made myself dinner.
\nAt 8:43 that evening, Leah called.
\nI almost ignored it.
\nBut something told me to answer.
\n\u201cAre you seriously taking the house away from Mom and Dad?\u201d she demanded.
\n\u201cHello to you, too.\u201d
\n\u201cThis isn\u2019t funny. Mom\u2019s been crying all afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cDid she cry yesterday when everyone celebrated without me?\u201d
\nLeah sighed.
\n\u201cYou know how Dad gets. He didn\u2019t want an argument.\u201d
\n\u201cSo you all agreed to leave me out?\u201d
\nNobody answered immediately.
\nThen Leah said quietly, \u201cI told them it was a bad idea.\u201d
\nThat stopped me.
\n\u201cYou knew?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd you didn\u2019t tell me?\u201d
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t want to get involved.\u201d
\nI looked at the untouched presents beside my couch.
\n\u201cFunny how everyone avoids getting involved until money is involved.\u201d
\nLeah\u2019s voice sharpened.
\n\u201cYou don\u2019t understand. Mom and Dad already told the real estate agent they\u2019re putting their old house on the market.\u201d
\nMy stomach tightened.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cThey signed paperwork last week.\u201d
\nI sat upright.
\n\u201cThey haven\u2019t even received the bungalow.\u201d
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\n\u201cThen why would they list their house?\u201d
\nAnother pause.
\n\u201cBecause they were counting on you.\u201d
\nThat was when I remembered something.
\nTwo weeks earlier, Mom had casually mentioned wanting to help Leah purchase a larger home. At the time, I assumed she was talking about saving money.
\nNow I wasn\u2019t so sure.
\n\u201cLeah,\u201d I asked slowly, \u201cwhat exactly were Mom and Dad planning to do with the money from selling their house?\u201d
\nShe didn\u2019t answer.
\n\u201cLeah?\u201d
\nFinally, she whispered, \u201cThey were going to give me most of it.\u201d
\nI stared at the wall.
\nThe pieces began falling into place.
\nI had spent years saving to buy my parents a comfortable retirement home.
\nThey were planning to move into it for free.
\nThen they would sell their existing house and hand the money to Leah.
\nI wasn\u2019t simply buying my parents a house.
\nWithout realizing it, I had been financing my sister\u2019s future, too.
\n\u201cHow much?\u201d I asked.
\n\u201cPlease don\u2019t make this worse.\u201d
\n\u201cHow much, Leah?\u201d
\nShe swallowed.
\n\u201cOne hundred and eighty thousand dollars.\u201d
\nI closed my eyes.
\nAnd just when I thought I had heard everything, Leah added something that made my blood run cold.
\n\u201cThere\u2019s something else. Mom and Dad didn\u2019t tell you the real reason they celebrated Christmas early.\u201d
\nI gripped the phone.
\n\u201cWhat reason?\u201d
\nLeah lowered her voice.
\n\u201cBecause somebody was there who wasn\u2019t supposed to know you existed.\u201d<\/p>\n
For several seconds, I couldn\u2019t speak.
\n\u201cWhat do you mean, somebody who wasn\u2019t supposed to know I existed?\u201d
\nLeah breathed heavily into the phone.
\n\u201cHer name is Patricia. Dad\u2019s older sister.\u201d
\nI frowned.
\n\u201cAunt Patricia? Dad told me she moved overseas twenty years ago.\u201d
\n\u201cShe came back last month.\u201d
\nI remembered Patricia vaguely. She had attended my eighth birthday, brought me a beautiful silver bracelet, and disappeared from our lives shortly afterward.
\nWhenever I asked about her, Dad changed the subject.
\n\u201cWhy would her being there matter?\u201d
\nLeah hesitated.
\n\u201cBecause she came back with questions about Grandpa\u2019s estate.\u201d
\nMy grandfather had died when I was seventeen.
\nDad told us there had been almost nothing left after medical expenses.
\nA small savings account.
\nSome old furniture.
\nA few sentimental belongings.
\nNothing worth arguing about.
\nOr so I had believed.
\n\u201cLeah, what does Grandpa\u2019s estate have to do with Christmas?\u201d
\n\u201cPatricia said Grandpa left something specifically for you.\u201d
\nI went completely still.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know all the details. She came to Christmas dinner with a folder. Dad got upset when she mentioned your name.\u201d
\nMy heart began pounding.
\n\u201cWhy would Dad hide something like that?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause Patricia said she\u2019d been trying to contact you for years.\u201d
\nThe room suddenly felt smaller.
\nI stood and walked toward the kitchen window.
\n\u201cDid she ask why I wasn\u2019t there?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd what did they tell her?\u201d
\nLeah\u2019s answer came so quietly I almost missed it.
\n\u201cThey told her you wanted nothing to do with the family.\u201d
\nI felt the words settle inside me.
\nMy parents had deliberately kept me away from Christmas because they didn\u2019t want me speaking to someone who might know something important about my grandfather.
\nAnd all this time, I had thought the problem was simply that Dad didn\u2019t like being corrected.
\n\u201cDo you have Patricia\u2019s number?\u201d I asked.
\n\u201cI can send it.\u201d
\n\u201cPlease.\u201d
\nA minute later, a contact appeared on my screen.
\nI called immediately.
\nAn older woman answered after three rings.
\n\u201cHello?\u201d
\n\u201cAunt Patricia? This is your niece.\u201d
\nSilence.
\nThen I heard a sharp intake of breath.
\n\u201cOh, sweetheart.\u201d
\nSomething in her voice nearly broke me.
\n\u201cI\u2019ve been trying to find you.\u201d
\nI sat down.
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\nShe didn\u2019t answer immediately.
\nInstead, she asked, \u201cDid your father tell you what happened after your grandfather died?\u201d
\nI explained what I knew.
\nMedical bills.
\nLittle money.
\nNo inheritance.
\nPatricia made a sound of disbelief.
\n\u201cYour grandfather owned three rental properties when he died.\u201d
\nMy mouth went dry.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cAnd he left instructions concerning one of them specifically for you.\u201d
\nI could barely breathe.
\n\u201cDad said there was nothing.\u201d
\n\u201cYour grandfather was very clear about what he wanted. But the estate became complicated, and I couldn\u2019t get reliable answers from your father.\u201d
\nShe paused.
\n\u201cI\u2019ve spent years trying to obtain the complete records.\u201d
\nI rubbed my forehead.
\n\u201cAre you saying Dad stole my inheritance?\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019m saying I found documents that raise questions he needs to answer. I don\u2019t want to accuse anyone until a lawyer reviews everything.\u201d
\nThat careful answer frightened me more than an accusation would have.
\nPatricia continued.
\n\u201cWhen I contacted your parents last month, your father said you didn\u2019t want to discuss the past. He promised you\u2019d meet me at Christmas.\u201d
\nMy stomach dropped.
\n\u201cHe promised that?\u201d
\n\u201cYes. Then yesterday, he claimed you\u2019d refused to come.\u201d
\nI looked at the little Christmas tree glowing in my living room.
\nEverything suddenly made a terrible kind of sense.
\nThey hadn\u2019t excluded me because I was difficult.
\nThey had excluded me because someone might have told me something they wanted hidden.
\n\u201cPatricia,\u201d I whispered, \u201ccan we meet?\u201d
\n\u201cOf course.\u201d
\nShe gave me the address of her hotel.
\nThen she said, \u201cThere\u2019s something I need you to know before we speak.\u201d
\nI waited.
\n\u201cLast week, I found a letter your grandfather wrote shortly before he died.\u201d
\nMy throat tightened.
\n\u201cA letter?\u201d
\n\u201cYes. It has your name on it.\u201d
\nI pressed my hand against my chest.
\n\u201cWhat does it say?\u201d
\nHer voice trembled.
\n\u201cHe knew your father might try to keep something from you. And he left instructions about exactly what you should do if that happened.\u201d<\/p>\n
The following morning, I drove to Patricia\u2019s hotel.
\nI barely slept the night before.
\nEvery time I closed my eyes, I heard Dad saying, \u201cEverything was easier without you there.\u201d
\nNow I wondered whether he had meant Christmas.
\nOr whether everything had always been easier for him when I didn\u2019t ask questions.
\nPatricia was waiting in the lobby.
\nShe looked older than I remembered, with silver hair pulled into a neat bun and the same kind brown eyes my grandfather had.
\nWhen she saw me, she stood immediately.
\n\u201cOh, look at you.\u201d
\nShe embraced me tightly.
\nFor a moment, I felt like a child again.
\nThen she opened her handbag and removed a thick brown folder.
\n\u201cI wish we\u2019d found each other under better circumstances,\u201d she said.
\nWe sat near the window.
\nInside the folder were copies of property records, letters between attorneys, and documents related to my grandfather\u2019s estate.
\nPatricia explained everything carefully.
\nGrandpa had owned three rental properties.
\nTwo were intended to be divided between his children.
\nThe third, a small duplex outside Columbus, had been designated for my benefit through provisions in his estate plan.
\nAccording to Patricia, Grandpa wanted the rental income to help pay for my education and eventually give me financial security.
\nBut after his death, disputes over the estate delayed everything.
\nDad had handled much of the paperwork.
\nPatricia had spent years questioning what happened afterward.
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t have proof that anything improper occurred,\u201d she admitted. \u201cBut I knew your grandfather wouldn\u2019t have wanted you left completely in the dark.\u201d
\nThen she handed me a folded letter.
\nThe envelope had yellowed at the edges.
\nMy name was written across the front in Grandpa\u2019s familiar handwriting.
\nI opened it carefully.
\nMy dear girl,
\nIf you\u2019re reading this, I hope you have grown into the strong, kind woman I always believed you would become.
\nI know you love your family. I also know you sometimes carry more than anyone asks you to carry.
\nThere may come a day when someone confuses your kindness with an obligation.
\nPlease remember that loving people does not mean allowing them to take everything you have.
\nI have tried to leave you something that will give you freedom.
\nIf questions arise about what happened to it, seek independent advice and ask for the full records.
\nNever be ashamed of protecting what is yours.
\nAnd never mistake being needed for being loved.
\nLove always,
\nGrandpa.
\nBy the time I finished reading, tears were sliding down my cheeks.
\nPatricia reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
\n\u201cHe adored you,\u201d she whispered.
\nI couldn\u2019t speak.
\nFor years, I had measured my worth by how useful I could be to my family.
\nI had worked harder.
\nGiven more.
\nAsked for less.
\nAnd somehow, it had never been enough.
\n\u201cDid Dad know about this letter?\u201d I finally asked.
\nPatricia nodded.
\n\u201cHe was present when your grandfather gave it to his attorney. I don\u2019t know whether he ever read it.\u201d
\nThat distinction mattered.
\nI didn\u2019t want to accuse Dad of something I couldn\u2019t prove.
\nBut I wanted answers.
\nWe arranged to meet with an independent estate attorney after the holidays.
\nPatricia promised to provide every document she had.
\nBefore leaving, I thanked her.
\nShe hugged me again.
\n\u201cYou should have been told long ago.\u201d
\nWhen I returned home, there were six missed calls from Mom.
\nThree from Dad.
\nAnd a text from Leah.
\nPLEASE CALL ME. DAD KNOWS YOU MET PATRICIA.
\nI stared at the message.
\nBefore I could respond, another appeared.
\nHe\u2019s furious. He says you\u2019re trying to destroy the family.
\nI typed a reply.
\nI\u2019m only asking questions.
\nThen my phone rang.
\nDad.
\nI answered.
\nHis voice was shaking with anger.
\n\u201cYou went behind my back.\u201d
\n\u201cI met my aunt.\u201d
\n\u201cYou had no right.\u201d
\nI looked at Grandpa\u2019s letter resting on my kitchen table.
\n\u201cI have every right to understand my own family\u2019s history.\u201d
\n\u201cPatricia is filling your head with lies.\u201d
\n\u201cThen the documents should clear everything up.\u201d
\nHe went quiet.
\nI continued.
\n\u201cI\u2019m hiring an independent attorney to review Grandpa\u2019s estate. And I\u2019m keeping the bungalow.\u201d
\nDad suddenly sounded different.
\nNot angry anymore.
\nWorried.
\n\u201cYou don\u2019t understand what you\u2019re getting into.\u201d
\n\u201cThen help me understand.\u201d
\nThere was a long silence.
\nFinally, he said, \u201cSome decisions were made years ago that can\u2019t be undone.\u201d
\nMy chest tightened.
\n\u201cWhat decisions?\u201d
\nHis next words changed everything.
\n\u201cIf you keep digging, you\u2019re going to find out why your grandfather\u2019s property was sold. And your mother doesn\u2019t know the whole truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t answer immediately.
\nDad had spent years acting as though every question I asked was a personal attack.
\nNow, for the first time, he sounded like someone afraid of the answers.
\n\u201cWhat happened to Grandpa\u2019s property?\u201d I asked.
\nHe sighed.
\n\u201cYour grandfather\u2019s estate had debts and legal complications. One property was sold to cover obligations. Another was transferred during the settlement.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd the duplex?\u201d
\nAnother long pause.
\n\u201cYour grandfather intended it for you. But I authorized its sale before everything was properly resolved.\u201d
\nI gripped the phone.
\n\u201cDid you have the authority to do that?\u201d
\n\u201cI believed I did.\u201d
\n\u201cWhere did the money go?\u201d
\nHe didn\u2019t answer.
\n\u201cDad?\u201d
\n\u201cSome went toward debts. Some went toward helping the family.\u201d
\nI looked around my apartment.
\nThe furniture I had purchased secondhand.
\nThe kitchen table I\u2019d repaired myself.
\nThe little savings spreadsheet I\u2019d maintained for years while trying to buy my parents a home.
\n\u201cHelping the family,\u201d I repeated.
\n\u201cYour mother had medical expenses. Leah needed support. We had problems you were too young to understand.\u201d
\nMy eyes burned.
\n\u201cAnd nobody thought I deserved to know?\u201d
\n\u201cYou had a good life.\u201d
\nThat sentence finally broke something inside me.
\nNot because I hated my father.
\nBut because I understood how little he recognized the sacrifices I\u2019d made.
\n\u201cI built that life, Dad.\u201d
\nHe said nothing.
\n\u201cI worked through college. I paid my bills. I saved for years. And when I finally had enough money to give you and Mom a comfortable retirement, you decided I wasn\u2019t even worth inviting to Christmas.\u201d
\nHis breathing grew uneven.
\n\u201cYou\u2019re mixing two different things.\u201d
\n\u201cNo. I\u2019m finally seeing the same pattern.\u201d
\nI ended the call.
\nThe following weeks were difficult.
\nMom sent long messages accusing me of abandoning them.
\nDad insisted Patricia was exaggerating.
\nLeah apologized, although she admitted she had known more about the early Christmas plans than she first told me.
\nBut I didn\u2019t argue.
\nI collected documents.
\nI met with an independent attorney.
\nAnd I asked questions I should have been allowed to ask years earlier.
\nThe review revealed something important.
\nThe duplex had indeed been intended to benefit me, but the estate documents were more complicated than Patricia initially understood.
\nMy attorney found evidence that Dad had authorized transactions that required further explanation and accounting.
\nSome money had been used for legitimate estate expenses.
\nOther transfers were poorly documented.
\nMy attorney advised me that determining whether anyone owed me compensation would require additional records and potentially formal legal action.
\nI chose to pursue the truth through the proper process.
\nNot because I wanted revenge.
\nBecause I finally understood that protecting myself wasn\u2019t cruelty.
\nMeanwhile, I made another decision.
\nI contacted the community center again.
\nMonica had received a job offer.
\nHer daughter, Laya, was doing well in school.
\nBut they still needed stable housing.
\nI met with the center\u2019s housing coordinator and explored whether my bungalow could be leased through an established transitional-housing arrangement.
\nThere were inspections, insurance questions, legal agreements, and financial considerations.
\nIt wasn\u2019t as simple as handing someone a key.
\nBut eventually, a workable plan came together.
\nThe bungalow remained mine.
\nAnd through the housing program, Monica and Laya became its first residents.
\nThe day they moved in, I stopped by with a small housewarming gift.
\nLaya ran toward me before I even reached the front door.
\n\u201cGuess what!\u201d she shouted.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cI have my own room!\u201d
\nShe grabbed my hand and pulled me inside.
\nThe walls were freshly painted.
\nA little desk stood beneath the bedroom window.
\nOn the bed was a stuffed rabbit.
\nAnd taped above the desk was a paper snowflake.
\nI recognized it immediately.
\n\u201cThe one from the community center?\u201d I asked.
\nShe nodded proudly.
\n\u201cI kept it. Mom says good things can happen when you least expect them.\u201d
\nMonica stood in the doorway, wiping her eyes.
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know how to thank you.\u201d
\n\u201cYou don\u2019t owe me anything,\u201d I said.
\nShe shook her head.
\n\u201cYou gave us a chance.\u201d
\nI looked at the little girl smiling in her new bedroom.
\nFor years, I had believed love meant giving until I had nothing left.
\nNow I was learning that generosity could exist alongside boundaries.
\nThree months later, Mom asked to meet me for coffee.
\nI agreed.
\nShe looked tired when she arrived.
\nThere were lines around her eyes I hadn\u2019t noticed before.
\nWe sat quietly until she finally spoke.
\n\u201cI owe you an apology.\u201d
\nI waited.
\n\u201cNot because of the house,\u201d she continued. \u201cBecause of Christmas.\u201d
\nMy throat tightened.
\nShe looked down.
\n\u201cWe convinced ourselves that excluding you was easier than telling your father he was being unfair. And when you found out, we expected you to forgive us immediately.\u201d
\nI didn\u2019t interrupt.
\n\u201cThat was wrong.\u201d
\nFor the first time, she wasn\u2019t asking me to fix anything.
\nShe was simply acknowledging what had happened.
\nThen she said, \u201cI also know about your grandfather\u2019s property now. Your father should have told you.\u201d
\nI nodded.
\n\u201cYes. He should have.\u201d
\nShe reached across the table.
\n\u201cI don\u2019t expect things to go back to normal.\u201d
\n\u201cNeither do I.\u201d
\nHer eyes filled.
\n\u201cBut I\u2019d like to try to build something better.\u201d
\nI looked at her hand.
\nFor years, I would have grabbed it immediately, desperate to make everything comfortable again.
\nThis time, I took a moment.
\nThen I gently held it.
\n\u201cWe can try,\u201d I said. \u201cBut things have to change.\u201d
\nShe nodded.
\nAnd for once, I believed she understood.
\nDad\u2019s relationship with me remained complicated.
\nHe eventually agreed, through our attorneys, to provide additional estate records and cooperate with the accounting.
\nThe legal and financial questions took time to resolve.
\nSome conversations were uncomfortable.
\nSome truths were painful.
\nBut I no longer confused discomfort with wrongdoing.
\nAs for the bungalow, I never regretted keeping it.
\nA year after that terrible Christmas, I received a handmade card in the mail.
\nOn the front, Laya had drawn a little white house with a red roof.
\nInside, in careful handwriting, she had written:
\nThank you for giving us a Christmas we can remember forever.
\nLove, Laya.
\nI placed the card beside Grandpa\u2019s letter.
\nThen I sat quietly for a long time.
\nI thought about the Christmas morning when I\u2019d called Mom to ask whether I should bring chocolate cake or apple pie.
\nI thought about Dad telling me everything was easier without me.
\nAnd I thought about the little girl who had looked at a chocolate cake as though it were the greatest gift in the world.
\nThat Christmas, I lost the version of my family I had spent my whole life trying to please.
\nBut I gained something I hadn\u2019t realized I was missing.
\nThe freedom to decide what my love, my time, and my generosity were worth.
\nAnd if I could go back to that grocery store, standing beneath those bright lights with two desserts in my hands, I wouldn\u2019t change a single decision.
\nBecause the greatest gift I gave that Christmas wasn\u2019t a $285,000 house.
\nIt wasn\u2019t even the chocolate cake.
\nIt was the moment I finally stopped begging for a place at someone else\u2019s table.
\nAnd started building a life where I never had to ask for permission to belong.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
PART 2: THE CHRISTMAS SECRET THEY NEVER EXPECTED ME TO DISCOVER Dad had told me I was unwanted. But Mom had just admitted something far worse. They had deliberately excluded me, planned it for days, and expected me to pretend nothing had happened. I sat in my car outside the community center, staring at the … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1554,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1553","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-world-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/newsstorydaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1553","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/newsstorydaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/newsstorydaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newsstorydaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newsstorydaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1553"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/newsstorydaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1553\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1555,"href":"https:\/\/newsstorydaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1553\/revisions\/1555"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newsstorydaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1554"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/newsstorydaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1553"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newsstorydaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1553"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newsstorydaily.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1553"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}