![\"\"](\"https:\/\/shadowtnue.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/image-402.png\")
<\/figure>\n\u201cShe came into the ER forty minutes ago. Severe back trauma. Possible assault.\u201d He hesitated. \u201cYou need to see this yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ten minutes later, I was pushing through the ambulance entrance, still wearing the same sweater I\u2019d fallen asleep in. Alan met me outside Trauma Two, his face pale in a way I had never seen, not even during the worst nights of my career.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere\u2019s Emily?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t answer. He just held the curtain open.<\/p>\n
My daughter was lying face down on the bed, sedated, her blond hair matted with sweat, her fingers twitching against the sheet. The back of her hospital gown had been cut away. At first I thought the dark marks across her skin were bruises.<\/p>\n
Then my brain caught up.<\/p>\n
They weren\u2019t bruises.<\/p>\n
They were words.<\/p>\n
A message had been carved into her back in shallow, deliberate lines\u2014fresh enough that blood still welled at the edges. Not random. Not drunken violence. Precise. Controlled. Personal.<\/p>\n
I moved closer, my knees suddenly weak.<\/p>\n
The letters stretched from one shoulder blade to the other:<\/p>\n
HE LIED TO YOU TOO.<\/p>\n
For one second, the room went silent. No monitors. No voices. No breath.<\/p>\n
Then I saw something tucked under Emily\u2019s trembling hand\u2014a torn strip of bloody fabric from a man\u2019s dress shirt.<\/p>\n
Monogrammed.<\/p>\n
Three initials in navy thread.<\/p>\n
D.C.M.<\/p>\n
My son-in-law\u2019s initials.<\/p>\n
And just as I reached for it, Emily\u2019s eyes snapped open.<\/p>\n
She looked straight at me and whispered, \u201cDad\u2026 don\u2019t let him know I\u2019m still alive.\u201d<\/p>\n
I thought I knew exactly who had done this the second I saw those initials. I was wrong about more than one thing that night\u2014and the next few hours would uncover a secret none of us were ready for.<\/p>\n
I bent over her so quickly I nearly knocked the monitor loose.<\/p>\n
\u201cTold me what?\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n
Emily tried to speak, but the effort twisted her face in pain. Alan stepped in, adjusting the IV line. \u201cShe needs rest, Richard.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Emily rasped. Her voice was raw, thin, but urgent. \u201cNo more waiting.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her fingers dug into my wrist with shocking force. \u201cDaniel\u2026 not safe.\u201d<\/p>\n
I held the bloodstained fabric tighter. \u201cDid he do this to you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes filled with terror, and for a second I thought she would say yes. Instead she barely shook her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot\u2026 alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
Alan and I exchanged a glance.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily,\u201d I said carefully, \u201cwhat does \u2018Ask him about Denver\u2019 mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
She froze.<\/p>\n
That one word hit her harder than the pain medication. Her breathing quickened. The heart monitor climbed.<\/p>\n
Alan swore under his breath. \u201cRichard, stop. You\u2019re pushing her into tachycardia.\u201d<\/p>\n
But Emily was staring at me now, horrified\u2014not because I had said the word, but because I knew it.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou saw it,\u201d she whispered. \u201cOh God.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then she passed out.<\/p>\n
Everything after that moved fast. Alan ordered imaging, bloodwork, psych consult, police notification. I stood in the hall with dried blood on my fingers and called Daniel Miller.<\/p>\n
He answered on the second ring, breathless. \u201cRichard? I\u2019ve been trying to find Emily. She left after dinner and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s in St. Mary\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence.<\/p>\n
Then: \u201cIs she okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
The concern in his voice sounded real. Too real. \u201cGet here now,\u201d I said, and hung up.<\/p>\n
The police arrived within fifteen minutes. Detective Lena Ortiz, mid-forties, sharp-eyed, no wasted movement. She listened while I described the initials, the message, the way Emily had begged me not to let him know she was alive.<\/p>\n
Ortiz didn\u2019t react the way I expected.<\/p>\n
She asked, \u201cHas your daughter said anything about a storage unit? Or a safety-deposit key?\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
She pulled a photo from her folder and handed it to me.<\/p>\n
It was Daniel.<\/p>\n
Not in a family photo. Not at a wedding. In grainy surveillance footage, standing beside a black SUV outside a federal office building in Denver, Colorado.<\/p>\n
My throat tightened. \u201cWhat is this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ve been investigating financial fraud connected to a biomedical startup,\u201d Ortiz said. \u201cShell companies, stolen patient data, illegal testing contracts. Your son-in-law\u2019s name surfaced six weeks ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s impossible. Daniel sells medical devices.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s the cover story.\u201d<\/p>\n
Alan stepped closer. \u201cWhat does any of this have to do with Emily?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ortiz looked at the curtain around Trauma Two before answering. \u201cWe think she found something she wasn\u2019t supposed to.\u201d<\/p>\n
The floor seemed to tilt under me.<\/p>\n
Emily had married Daniel three years earlier. He was polished, successful, attentive. Too polished, maybe. But criminal? No. I would have seen something.<\/p>\n
Wouldn\u2019t I?<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you arrest him?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe couldn\u2019t make the conspiracy stick,\u201d Ortiz said. \u201cNot yet. Then yesterday, a witness disappeared in Kansas City. Today your daughter ends up in the ER with a message carved into her back.\u201d<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t have to say the rest.<\/p>\n
This was bigger than domestic violence.<\/p>\n
Daniel arrived before midnight. He ran into the hall, tie loosened, face white, eyes red. The performance would have convinced anyone.<\/p>\n
Maybe once it would have convinced me.<\/p>\n
\u201cRichard\u2014where is she?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ortiz stepped in front of him. \u201cDaniel Miller?\u201d<\/p>\n
He flinched when he saw the badge, but only for a fraction of a second. Then grief returned to his face. Controlled grief. Measured.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s my wife,\u201d he said. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
I pulled the strip of cloth from my pocket and held it up.<\/p>\n
His gaze dropped to the initials.<\/p>\n
And that was the first crack.<\/p>\n
His face didn\u2019t show guilt. It showed recognition.<\/p>\n
Then fear.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not mine,\u201d he said too quickly.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt came from her hand.\u201d<\/p>\n
He swallowed. \u201cThen someone wants it to look like me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ortiz watched him in silence. \u201cWhere were you between eight and ten tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAt home. Then driving around looking for Emily.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCan anyone confirm that?\u201d<\/p>\n
He opened his mouth. Closed it.<\/p>\n
Alan\u2019s pager buzzed at that exact moment. He glanced down, frowned, and muttered, \u201cThat\u2019s odd.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily\u2019s CT just uploaded.\u201d He looked at me, unsettled. \u201cRichard, come with me.\u201d<\/p>\n
We stepped into the radiology viewing room. Her spinal films glowed on the screen, ghostly and sharp.<\/p>\n
I was a surgeon for thirty-six years. I knew the body. I knew what belonged inside it.<\/p>\n
This didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
Something small and metallic sat lodged beneath the skin near her left scapula, invisible from the surface. Not a bullet. Not surgical hardware.<\/p>\n
Alan zoomed in.<\/p>\n
It was a capsule.<\/p>\n
A tracking implant.<\/p>\n
And before either of us could speak, the power in the room cut out.<\/p>\n
Every screen went black.<\/p>\n
A second later, the first scream echoed down the hall.<\/p>\n
I bent over her so quickly I nearly knocked the monitor loose.<\/p>\n
\u201cTold me what?\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n
Emily tried to speak, but the effort twisted her face in pain. Alan stepped in, adjusting the IV line. \u201cShe needs rest, Richard.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Emily rasped. Her voice was raw, thin, but urgent. \u201cNo more waiting.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her fingers dug into my wrist with shocking force. \u201cDaniel\u2026 not safe.\u201d<\/p>\n
I held the bloodstained fabric tighter. \u201cDid he do this to you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes filled with terror, and for a second I thought she would say yes. Instead she barely shook her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot\u2026 alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
Alan and I exchanged a glance.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily,\u201d I said carefully, \u201cwhat does \u2018Ask him about Denver\u2019 mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
She froze.<\/p>\n
That one word hit her harder than the pain medication. Her breathing quickened. The heart monitor climbed.<\/p>\n
Alan swore under his breath. \u201cRichard, stop. You\u2019re pushing her into tachycardia.\u201d<\/p>\n
But Emily was staring at me now, horrified\u2014not because I had said the word, but because I knew it.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou saw it,\u201d she whispered. \u201cOh God.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then she passed out.<\/p>\n
Everything after that moved fast. Alan ordered imaging, bloodwork, psych consult, police notification. I stood in the hall with dried blood on my fingers and called Daniel Miller.<\/p>\n
He answered on the second ring, breathless. \u201cRichard? I\u2019ve been trying to find Emily. She left after dinner and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s in St. Mary\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence.<\/p>\n
Then: \u201cIs she okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
The concern in his voice sounded real. Too real. \u201cGet here now,\u201d I said, and hung up.<\/p>\n
The police arrived within fifteen minutes. Detective Lena Ortiz, mid-forties, sharp-eyed, no wasted movement. She listened while I described the initials, the message, the way Emily had begged me not to let him know she was alive.<\/p>\n
Ortiz didn\u2019t react the way I expected.<\/p>\n
She asked, \u201cHas your daughter said anything about a storage unit? Or a safety-deposit key?\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
She pulled a photo from her folder and handed it to me.<\/p>\n
It was Daniel.<\/p>\n
Not in a family photo. Not at a wedding. In grainy surveillance footage, standing beside a black SUV outside a federal office building in Denver, Colorado.<\/p>\n
My throat tightened. \u201cWhat is this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ve been investigating financial fraud connected to a biomedical startup,\u201d Ortiz said. \u201cShell companies, stolen patient data, illegal testing contracts. Your son-in-law\u2019s name surfaced six weeks ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s impossible. Daniel sells medical devices.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s the cover story.\u201d<\/p>\n
Alan stepped closer. \u201cWhat does any of this have to do with Emily?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ortiz looked at the curtain around Trauma Two before answering. \u201cWe think she found something she wasn\u2019t supposed to.\u201d<\/p>\n
The floor seemed to tilt under me.<\/p>\n
Emily had married Daniel three years earlier. He was polished, successful, attentive. Too polished, maybe. But criminal? No. I would have seen something.<\/p>\n
Wouldn\u2019t I?<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you arrest him?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe couldn\u2019t make the conspiracy stick,\u201d Ortiz said. \u201cNot yet. Then yesterday, a witness disappeared in Kansas City. Today your daughter ends up in the ER with a message carved into her back.\u201d<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t have to say the rest.<\/p>\n
This was bigger than domestic violence.<\/p>\n
Daniel arrived before midnight. He ran into the hall, tie loosened, face white, eyes red. The performance would have convinced anyone.<\/p>\n
Maybe once it would have convinced me.<\/p>\n
\u201cRichard\u2014where is she?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ortiz stepped in front of him. \u201cDaniel Miller?\u201d<\/p>\n
He flinched when he saw the badge, but only for a fraction of a second. Then grief returned to his face. Controlled grief. Measured.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s my wife,\u201d he said. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
I pulled the strip of cloth from my pocket and held it up.<\/p>\n
His gaze dropped to the initials.<\/p>\n
And that was the first crack.<\/p>\n
His face didn\u2019t show guilt. It showed recognition.<\/p>\n
Then fear.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not mine,\u201d he said too quickly.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt came from her hand.\u201d<\/p>\n
He swallowed. \u201cThen someone wants it to look like me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ortiz watched him in silence. \u201cWhere were you between eight and ten tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAt home. Then driving around looking for Emily.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCan anyone confirm that?\u201d<\/p>\n
He opened his mouth. Closed it.<\/p>\n
Alan\u2019s pager buzzed at that exact moment. He glanced down, frowned, and muttered, \u201cThat\u2019s odd.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily\u2019s CT just uploaded.\u201d He looked at me, unsettled. \u201cRichard, come with me.\u201d<\/p>\n
We stepped into the radiology viewing room. Her spinal films glowed on the screen, ghostly and sharp.<\/p>\n
I was a surgeon for thirty-six years. I knew the body. I knew what belonged inside it.<\/p>\n
This didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
Something small and metallic sat lodged beneath the skin near her left scapula, invisible from the surface. Not a bullet. Not surgical hardware.<\/p>\n
Alan zoomed in.<\/p>\n
It was a capsule.<\/p>\n
A tracking implant.<\/p>\n
And before either of us could speak, the power in the room cut out.<\/p>\n
Every screen went black.<\/p>\n
A second later, the first scream echoed down the hall.<\/p>\n
The scream came from Trauma Two.<\/p>\n
I was already running before the emergency lights kicked on, washing the corridor in pulsing red. Nurses were shouting. Someone slammed into my shoulder. Alan was right behind me.<\/p>\n
When I tore through the curtain, Emily\u2019s bed was empty.<\/p>\n
For one frozen second I thought they had taken her.<\/p>\n
Then I saw the blood trail leading to the bathroom.<\/p>\n
I lunged inside and found her crouched on the tile floor, one hand clamped over the back of her shoulder, IV ripped out, blood streaking down her arm. She had dragged herself off the bed.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad,\u201d she gasped. \u201cThey shut the lights off because they\u2019re here.\u201d<\/p>\n
I dropped to my knees beside her. \u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot Daniel,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
That stopped me cold.<\/p>\n
Alan locked the bathroom door. \u201cTalk.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily swallowed hard, shaking. \u201cDaniel found out six months ago that the company he worked for\u2014VasCor Biotech\u2014was using hospital data to identify vulnerable patients for unapproved drug trials. They had contacts in billing departments, private clinics, rehab centers. Daniel tried to pull out after he realized how deep it went.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her. \u201cThen why didn\u2019t he go to the police?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe did,\u201d came a voice from the doorway.<\/p>\n
Detective Ortiz slipped in, gun drawn, breath steady despite the chaos outside. \u201cQuietly. Through federal channels. That\u2019s why Denver mattered.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily looked at me. \u201cDenver was where he met their compliance officer. He thought he was exposing fraud. Instead he learned the company\u2019s chief legal adviser had protected the scheme for years.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Emily\u2019s eyes filled.<\/p>\n
She wasn\u2019t looking at Ortiz.<\/p>\n
She was looking at Alan.<\/p>\n
My head turned slowly.<\/p>\n
Alan Mercer stood very still beside the sink. His face had gone flat, emptied of every trace of concern. No shock. No confusion. No denial.<\/p>\n
Just calculation.<\/p>\n
I heard my own voice break. \u201cAlan?\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily pressed herself harder against the wall. \u201cHe was there the night Daniel copied the files. Daniel didn\u2019t know at first who was feeding patient records to VasCor. I did. I found emails on Alan\u2019s tablet. Contracts. Payments. Names.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ortiz never took her gun off him. \u201cDr. Mercer, step away from the door.\u201d<\/p>\n
Alan smiled, and that smile frightened me more than anything else that night.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou really should have stayed retired, Richard,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
The words landed like a scalpel sliding between ribs. Memories rearranged themselves instantly: Alan insisting I see Emily first. Alan controlling the room. Alan getting the scans. Alan being the one person who knew exactly what had been found inside her.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe implant,\u201d I said. \u201cYou put it in.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot personally,\u201d he replied. \u201cBut yes. We needed to know where she would go if she ran.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily started crying silently. \u201cI thought Daniel set me up. Alan told me Daniel was selling me out. He said if I talked, Daniel would die first.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s why you said he wasn\u2019t alone,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n
She nodded. \u201cDaniel got me out of the house tonight. He told me to take the files and go to you. Before I could leave town, someone grabbed me in the parking garage. I never saw his face. When I woke up, Alan was there. He cut those words into my back and told me you\u2019d blame Daniel. He wanted you angry. Distracted.\u201d<\/p>\n
Everything inside me turned to fire.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou son of a\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
Alan moved faster than I expected. He snatched a metal oxygen canister off the wall and hurled it toward Ortiz. Her shot went wide. The canister smashed the mirror. Glass exploded across the room.<\/p>\n
Alan bolted.<\/p>\n
Ortiz cursed and chased him. I started after them, but Emily grabbed my sleeve.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad\u2014the files.\u201d<\/p>\n
She pointed to the bandage taped along her right side, low near her ribs. Not the shoulder. Not the implant.<\/p>\n
A second hidden object.<\/p>\n
I ripped the dressing back. Taped beneath it was a wafer-thin flash drive sealed in plastic.<\/p>\n
Emily whispered, \u201cDaniel hid it on me before he sent me out.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was when my phone rang.<\/p>\n
Daniel.<\/p>\n
I answered on speaker.<\/p>\n
\u201cRichard,\u201d he said, voice tight and urgent, \u201cdon\u2019t trust Mercer. I\u2019m in the hospital garage. I have copies of everything. Men are following me.\u201d<\/p>\n
A crash sounded in the background, then footsteps.<\/p>\n
\u201cDaniel, listen to me,\u201d I said. \u201cEmily\u2019s alive.\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence. Then a strangled breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh God.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGet to the south stairwell,\u201d Ortiz shouted from the hall. \u201cNow!\u201d<\/p>\n
We moved. Alan had made it only thirty yards before security and two officers cornered him near the nurses\u2019 station. He was on the floor in handcuffs by the time we reached the stairwell doors.<\/p>\n
Daniel burst in from below, bruised, terrified, but alive.<\/p>\n
The second Emily saw him, she broke.<\/p>\n
Not from fear.<\/p>\n
From relief.<\/p>\n
He crossed the landing in two strides and dropped to his knees in front of her. He didn\u2019t touch her until she nodded. Then he held her like she might disappear.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought you believed him,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI did,\u201d she whispered. \u201cUntil he tried to kill me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ortiz took the flash drive, then looked at all three of us. \u201cThis is enough. Names, payments, trial data, kickbacks. Mercer\u2019s done. And if this matches what Daniel already turned over, VasCor\u2019s done too.\u201d<\/p>\n
Later, near dawn, after the statements, after surgery cleaned and closed the wounds on Emily\u2019s back, after the FBI took custody of Alan Mercer, I sat beside my daughter\u2019s bed and watched her sleep.<\/p>\n
The revenge I had promised myself in that first moment never came in the form I expected.<\/p>\n
My son-in-law was not the monster.<\/p>\n
The monster had worn my trust for twenty years and stood beside me in operating rooms while selling human lives like inventory.<\/p>\n
Daniel walked in quietly and handed me a coffee.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know you hate that I kept things from you,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI hate that my daughter almost died because decent people waited too long to speak plainly.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded once. \u201cFair.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked through the glass at Emily, bandaged but alive.<\/p>\n
Then I said the words I never imagined saying to him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou saved her.\u201d<\/p>\n
His eyes reddened. \u201cShe saved herself.\u201d<\/p>\n
For the first time that night, I believed there might still be something left to save in all of us.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I got to the ER in just ten minutes. The moment I arrived, my colleague looked at me and said, \u201cYou need to see this with your own eyes.\u201d Then … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4097,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4664","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4664","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4664"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4664\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4665,"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4664\/revisions\/4665"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/4097"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4664"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4664"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyintheworld.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4664"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}