The Woman at the Thanksgiving Restaurant Knew My Adopted Twins\u2014and Her Question Changed Everything<\/p>\n
\u201cWhich one of you is Daniel?\u201d<\/p>\n
The woman stood beside our table, clutching an old photograph so tightly that her fingers had turned white.<\/p>\n
My son Jake stared at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cI’m Jake,\u201d he said slowly. \u201cDaniel is my twin brother. He’s at home in Memphis.\u201d<\/p>\n
The woman closed her eyes.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I thought she might collapse.<\/p>\n
Then she pulled out the chair beside me and sat down without asking.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy name is Grace,\u201d she whispered. \u201cAnd twenty-three years ago, I promised two people that I would find these boys if I ever had the chance.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt my heart hammering against my ribs.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat people?\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace looked directly at Jake.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour birth mother and your birth father.\u201d<\/p>\n
The restaurant noise seemed to fade into the distance.<\/p>\n
Jake sat down slowly. His phone remained on the table, displaying the DNA match that had started this entire nightmare.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you saying you knew my birth parents?\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was your mother’s older sister.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jake’s face went pale.<\/p>\n
I reached for his hand, but he was staring at Grace as though he were afraid that looking away might make her disappear.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou’re my aunt?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why did we get adopted? Why didn’t you take us?\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace lowered her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I failed you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Those four words hung over our table.<\/p>\n
I wanted to protect Jake from whatever came next. I wanted to tell Grace that she couldn’t simply walk into our lives after twenty-three years and expect us to absorb a lifetime of unanswered questions.<\/p>\n
But I also knew that Jake deserved the truth.<\/p>\n
So I took a breath and asked the question that had been burning inside me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened to their parents?\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace looked at me, then at Jake.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour birth mother, Hannah, died when the boys were three weeks old. Your birth father, Daniel, died eleven days later.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jake’s hand tightened around mine.<\/p>\n
I could barely speak.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace unfolded the photograph and laid it on the table.<\/p>\n
It showed two newborn boys wrapped in matching blue blankets. Behind them stood a young couple, both smiling at the camera. The woman had dark eyes and a gentle expression. The man had one arm around her shoulders and his other hand resting on the hospital bassinet.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey named one of you Jake and the other Daniel,\u201d Grace said. \u201cYour father wanted to name his son after himself, but Hannah insisted that one of you should have a name of his own.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jake stared at the photograph.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn’t we keep those names?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause the adoption agency changed them when you arrived in the United States. Your adoptive parents were told your original names, but they chose to give you names that felt natural to your new family.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jake looked at me.<\/p>\n
I nodded through my tears.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe were told your names were different when you arrived,\u201d I said. \u201cWe chose Jake and Daniel because we thought they suited you. We never wanted to erase your history.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know, Mom,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n
Grace took a shaky breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cHannah and Daniel were young when they had you. They were twenty-two. They weren’t rich, but they were happy. Your father worked as a mechanic, and your mother was studying nursing. They lived in a small apartment outside Seoul.\u201d<\/p>\n
She paused, her eyes filling.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey loved you both desperately.\u201d<\/p>\n
I could no longer keep my hands still.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen what happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace looked down at the photograph.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen the boys were born, Hannah developed a serious infection. She was hospitalized, and the doctors struggled to control it. Daniel spent every possible moment at her bedside, but he was also trying to care for two newborn babies. He was exhausted and frightened.\u201d<\/p>\n
She wiped her cheek.<\/p>\n
\u201cEleven days after Hannah died, Daniel was killed in a traffic accident on his way back from the hospital.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jake covered his mouth.<\/p>\n
I felt tears running down my face.<\/p>\n
Grace continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was living in Busan at the time. I had just started a job, and I wasn’t married. Our parents were already gone. When Hannah died, I went to the hospital to see the boys. I promised Daniel that I would do everything I could to keep them together.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked at Jake.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut after his death, everything became complicated. I had no permanent home suitable for two infants. My job was temporary, and I had almost no savings. The authorities began discussing foster placement.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou could have asked someone for help,\u201d Jake said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou could have told us about you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI tried.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her answer came so quickly that Jake fell silent.<\/p>\n
Grace reached into her purse and took out another envelope.<\/p>\n
Inside were copies of old documents, photographs, and several letters with faded stamps.<\/p>\n
\u201cI asked to become your guardian,\u201d she explained. \u201cI wanted to raise you. But I was told that the process would take time, and I needed to prove I could provide stable housing and financial support. I was working toward that.\u201d<\/p>\n
She paused.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen someone told me the boys had to be placed together in a permanent home as soon as possible. A family in the United States had already been approved to adopt twins.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cOur family?\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. Your parents had been waiting years to adopt. The agency believed they could provide a stable home for both boys. I was told that if I agreed to the adoption, the boys would stay together.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was promised that your parents would receive the information about your birth family and that you could learn about me when you were old enough, if you wanted to.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt a chill.<\/p>\n
We had received a brief summary of the boys’ birth parents. We had been told that both had died and that a maternal relative had been unable to assume custody. We had never been given Grace’s name or contact information.<\/p>\n
I remembered asking whether there was any way to keep a connection with their relatives.<\/p>\n
The agency representative had told us that the records were incomplete and that the family had not requested future contact.<\/p>\n
I had believed her.<\/p>\n
Now I wondered whether Grace had been told something different.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn’t you find us?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Grace looked down.<\/p>\n
\u201cI tried. I wrote to the agency several times. I asked for updates. I asked whether the boys were healthy. I asked whether I could send letters or photographs.\u201d<\/p>\n
She took a folded letter from the envelope.<\/p>\n
\u201cEventually, I received a response saying the adoption was finalized and that the family preferred privacy. I was told that further contact would not be appropriate.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt my chest tighten.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe never said that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know that now.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked at Jake.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor years, I believed you were growing up in a good home. I hoped you were happy. I kept the photographs because I wanted you to know that your parents had loved you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jake stared at the letters.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why did you show up here today?\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace’s expression changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I wasn’t supposed to be here.\u201d<\/p>\n
She explained that she had moved to the United States twelve years earlier after marrying an American man. Her husband had died five years ago, and she now lived in Tennessee. She had come to the restaurant that afternoon because it was near the hotel where she was staying.<\/p>\n
She had not known Jake would be there.<\/p>\n
But when he opened his DNA results, she recognized the name of the testing service and the photograph attached to his profile. She had taken a DNA test herself several months earlier, hoping to learn more about her own family history.<\/p>\n
The match had appeared that morning.<\/p>\n
She had come to the restaurant to meet a friend, intending to contact Jake later. Then she saw him sitting at our table.<\/p>\n
\u201cI recognized your face,\u201d she whispered. \u201cYou have your mother’s eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jake looked away.<\/p>\n
For a long time, nobody spoke.<\/p>\n
Then he asked, \u201cDo you know why the adoption agency told us so little?\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace hesitated.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don’t know everything. But I believe someone made a mistake, and then too many people were afraid to admit it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt a surge of anger.<\/p>\n
A mistake.<\/p>\n
That was what she called it.<\/p>\n
For twenty-three years, we had raised two boys who were loved, protected, and cherished. We had given them everything we could. We had never hidden their adoption from them, but we had always believed the information we received was complete.<\/p>\n
Now we were discovering that a woman who had promised their dying father she would protect them had been kept outside their lives.<\/p>\n
And our sons had lost the chance to know her.<\/p>\n
I looked at Grace.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you ever try to find us outside the agency?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. I searched the adoption records I could access. I contacted organizations that helped people reconnect with birth relatives. But the information I had was limited. I didn’t know your names, your address, or even whether your family had stayed in Tennessee.\u201d<\/p>\n
She swallowed.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen I finally moved here, I thought about searching again. But I was afraid you would reject me. I had signed the adoption documents, and I thought you might believe I had abandoned the boys.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jake’s voice was quiet.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou did let us go.\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. I did. I believed I was choosing the best home I could find for you. But I also made a choice that cost me the chance to watch you grow up.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can’t ask you to forgive me for that. I can only tell you why I did it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jake pushed his chair back and stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need some air.\u201d<\/p>\n
I started to rise, but he shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt’s okay, Mom. I just need a minute.\u201d<\/p>\n
He walked outside.<\/p>\n
Grace remained seated, staring at the photograph.<\/p>\n
I wanted to comfort her, but I couldn’t.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn’t you contact the agency again when you learned you could move to the United States?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
She looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI did. They told me the case had been closed and that they couldn’t disclose the adoptive family’s information. I didn’t know how to reach you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I thought of all the years we had spent celebrating birthdays, watching school plays, and cheering at Little League games. I thought of Jake and Daniel as babies, sleeping in their cribs with their tiny hands curled beside their faces.<\/p>\n
We had loved them without reservation.<\/p>\n
But love hadn’t given us every piece of their history.<\/p>\n
And now I had to accept that the truth might be more complicated than any of us had imagined.<\/p>\n
When Jake returned, his eyes were red.<\/p>\n
He sat down and looked at Grace.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don’t know what I feel right now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don’t have to know,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI love my parents. My mom and dad are my parents. They raised me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I also want to know about the people who gave me life. I want to know who my mother was, what she liked, what she dreamed about. I want to know what my father was like.\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace reached into her purse and pulled out a small notebook.<\/p>\n
\u201cI brought this because I hoped one day I might have the chance to tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Inside were pages of handwritten memories.<\/p>\n
Hannah loved old movies and spicy food. Daniel sang badly when he worked on cars. They had argued over baby names, laughed over burnt dinners, and spent hours choosing blankets for their twins.<\/p>\n
There were photographs of Hannah holding Jake and Daniel in the hospital. There was a picture of Daniel leaning over the bassinet, his face full of wonder.<\/p>\n
And there was one photograph of the two parents standing in front of a small apartment, smiling as though they believed the world had just begun.<\/p>\n
Jake touched the photograph with one finger.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey look happy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey were,\u201d Grace said. \u201cThey were frightened, too. But they loved you.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded slowly.<\/p>\n
Then he asked the question that changed the direction of our conversation.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you know why we were adopted together instead of separately?\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace smiled faintly through her tears.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father insisted on it.\u201d<\/p>\n
She explained that the agency had initially discussed placing the boys with different families because twin infants could be difficult to place. Daniel had refused to consider it. He had told the social worker that his sons had lost their mother and would soon lose him, and that he could not bear the thought of them growing up without each other.<\/p>\n
He had written a letter requesting that they remain together.<\/p>\n
Grace had kept a copy.<\/p>\n
In the letter, Daniel had written that his sons would someday ask where they came from. He hoped they would grow up in a home where they were loved and never made to feel that their adoption was a burden.<\/p>\n
At the end, he had written:<\/p>\n
If I cannot be there to raise them, please make sure they always have each other.<\/p>\n
Jake pressed the letter against his chest.<\/p>\n
For the first time since the woman had approached our table, he smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe knew,\u201d Jake whispered. \u201cHe knew we’d need each other.\u201d<\/p>\n
I reached for his hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou’ve always had each other.\u201d<\/p>\n
Grace looked at us with an expression I couldn’t quite name.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father would have been grateful to know that.\u201d<\/p>\n
We stayed at the restaurant for nearly three hours.<\/p>\n
By the time we left, Jake had Grace’s phone number, copies of the letters, and several photographs of his birth parents. He had also made a decision.<\/p>\n
He wanted to meet her again.<\/p>\n
Not because she had suddenly become family in a way that replaced us, but because he wanted to understand the family he had come from.<\/p>\n
I supported him.<\/p>\n
When we returned home, Daniel was waiting in the kitchen. He had spent the afternoon working on a project in the garage and had no idea what had happened.<\/p>\n
Jake told him everything.<\/p>\n
At first, Daniel laughed nervously, thinking his brother was joking. Then Jake showed him the DNA results and the photographs.<\/p>\n
Daniel stared at the screen for a long time.<\/p>\n
Finally, he sat down.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe’s real?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jake nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe’s real.\u201d<\/p>\n
Daniel looked at the photograph of their birth parents.<\/p>\n
He didn’t cry immediately. He simply studied their faces, as though trying to find something familiar in the shape of their eyes or the curve of their smiles.<\/p>\n
Then he covered his face with his hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cI always wondered what they looked like,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n
I sat beside him and held his shoulder.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou never had to wonder whether you were loved here,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
He looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then he turned back to the photographs.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut now I get to know where I came from, too.\u201d<\/p>\n
Over the following months, we worked with the appropriate adoption-record authorities and sought professional guidance to understand what had happened. We learned that some of the documents in our original adoption file had been incomplete, while other correspondence had never been included in the records we received.<\/p>\n
We couldn’t immediately determine whether the omissions were deliberate or the result of administrative failures. The people involved were no longer all available to answer questions, and some records had been lost over time.<\/p>\n
But one thing became clear: Grace had not simply disappeared from the twins’ lives because she didn’t care.<\/p>\n
She had been grieving, struggling financially, and trying to make a decision she believed would give the boys a stable future. She had signed the adoption papers because she wanted them to remain together and be raised by parents who could provide what she couldn’t at the time.<\/p>\n
She had also made mistakes. She had accepted the agency’s assurances without finding another way to stay connected. She had waited too long to search again.<\/p>\n
And she had lived with the consequences.<\/p>\n
None of that made her a villain.<\/p>\n
None of it erased the pain of what had happened.<\/p>\n
But it helped us understand the story more fully.<\/p>\n
Jake and Daniel began meeting with Grace regularly. She brought photographs, told them stories about their parents, and answered questions as honestly as she could. Sometimes, the conversations were joyful. Sometimes, they were painful.<\/p>\n
They learned that Hannah had dreamed of becoming a nurse and that Daniel had planned to open his own repair shop. They learned that their father had loved baseball and that their mother had once made him practice singing lullabies because she couldn’t stand the sound of his voice.<\/p>\n
Daniel laughed harder at that story than I had heard him laugh in months.<\/p>\n
Jake asked Grace whether she had ever blamed us for adopting them.<\/p>\n
She shook her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. I believed you were giving them a life I couldn’t provide. I was grateful for that, even when it hurt.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then she looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know they were lucky to have you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I took her hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe were lucky to have them.\u201d<\/p>\n
It wasn’t easy to make room for a new relationship after twenty-three years. There were awkward moments, misunderstandings, and questions that had no satisfying answers. Grace sometimes cried when she saw how tall the twins had grown. Jake sometimes needed distance after hearing another story about his birth parents.<\/p>\n
Daniel was more reserved. He wanted to know his history, but he didn’t always know what to do with the emotions that came with it.<\/p>\n
We learned not to rush them.<\/p>\n
We learned that love did not require everyone to feel the same way at the same time.<\/p>\n
And we learned that knowing where you came from doesn’t have to diminish the family that raised you.<\/p>\n
The following Thanksgiving, we invited Grace to our house.<\/p>\n
She arrived carrying a pie and a small wooden box.<\/p>\n
Inside were two tiny knitted blankets, one blue and one white. Hannah had made them before the twins were born.<\/p>\n
Grace placed the blankets on the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought you should have these,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
Jake touched the blue blanket.<\/p>\n
Daniel held the white one carefully between his hands.<\/p>\n
For a long time, nobody spoke.<\/p>\n
Then Daniel looked at Grace.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you for keeping them.\u201d<\/p>\n
She began to cry.<\/p>\n
That evening, we sat around our dining table with turkey, mashed potatoes, and all the dishes our family had loved for years. Grace told stories about Hannah and Daniel. Our sons shared memories from their childhood in Memphis. My husband laughed about the time Jake had tried to build a go-kart out of an old lawn mower, and Daniel insisted that his brother had nearly destroyed the garage.<\/p>\n
The house was full of laughter.<\/p>\n
At one point, I looked around the table and realized that our family had grown without anyone being pushed out.<\/p>\n
Grace wasn’t taking our place.<\/p>\n
She was helping our sons understand another part of themselves.<\/p>\n
After dinner, Jake stood beside me at the kitchen sink.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, sweetheart?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWere you afraid when you saw the DNA results?\u201d<\/p>\n
I dried my hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cTerrified.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you think we might stop being your sons?\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned toward him immediately.<\/p>\n
\u201cNever.\u201d<\/p>\n
He smiled faintly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn’t think so. But I needed to hear it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I pulled him into a hug.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou and Daniel are my sons. That was true before we knew Grace existed, and it will be true for the rest of my life.\u201d<\/p>\n
He rested his head against my shoulder.<\/p>\n
\u201cI love you, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI love you, too.\u201d<\/p>\n
Later that night, after everyone had gone home, I found myself standing in the hallway outside the twins’ old bedrooms.<\/p>\n
I thought about the eleven years we had spent trying to have a child, the heartbreak that had nearly convinced us to stop hoping, and the day we first held Jake and Daniel in our arms.<\/p>\n
We had promised to love them without conditions.<\/p>\n
I had always thought that meant never making them feel different because they were adopted.<\/p>\n
Now I understood something more.<\/p>\n
It also meant allowing them to ask questions, to discover truths we hadn’t known, and to build relationships with people who belonged to their history.<\/p>\n
Their past did not threaten our family.<\/p>\n
It belonged to them.<\/p>\n
And loving them meant giving them the freedom to understand it.<\/p>\n
I turned off the hallway light and went downstairs.<\/p>\n
On the mantel, beside our family photograph, stood a new picture: Jake and Daniel with Grace, all three smiling beneath the autumn trees outside her home.<\/p>\n
I looked at it for a long time.<\/p>\n
For twenty-three years, I had believed our adoption story was simple: two babies needed a home, and we were blessed enough to give them one.<\/p>\n
That part was true.<\/p>\n
But it wasn’t the whole story.<\/p>\n
The whole story included a young mother who died, a father who tried to protect his sons even as he was dying, and an aunt who made a painful decision because she believed it was the only way to keep the twins together.<\/p>\n
It included a family that had been separated by grief, distance, and incomplete information.<\/p>\n
And it included two parents who had loved their sons so deeply that they were willing to make room for a truth they had never expected to find.<\/p>\n
We had not lost our sons that Thanksgiving.<\/p>\n
We had learned something new about them.<\/p>\n
And sometimes, the greatest gift a family can give is not the promise that nothing will ever change.<\/p>\n
It is the reassurance that when the truth finally comes, there will still be a place at the table.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The Woman at the Thanksgiving Restaurant Knew My Adopted Twins\u2014and Her Question Changed Everything \u201cWhich one of you is Daniel?\u201d The woman stood beside our table, clutching an old photograph … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":14300,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14302","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-h-post"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14302","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=14302"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14302\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14303,"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14302\/revisions\/14303"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/14300"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=14302"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=14302"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=14302"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}