The Photographs on My Mother\u2019s Wall<\/p>\n
My brother and I had never trusted our stepfather, but neither of us could explain exactly why.<\/p>\n
His name was Victor, and he had been married to our mother for two years. To everyone else, he seemed like the perfect husband: polite, generous, well-dressed, and always ready to help.<\/p>\n
He brought Mom flowers every Friday, remembered every anniversary, and never raised his voice in public.<\/p>\n
But behind closed doors, he behaved strangely.<\/p>\n
He double-locked every entrance, even when all of us were home. He insisted that the curtains remain closed after sunset. If my brother, Ethan, and I changed our plans, Victor somehow knew before we told Mom.<\/p>\n
Once, Ethan drove to a friend’s house without mentioning it to anyone. Twenty minutes after he arrived, Victor called to ask why he was there.<\/p>\n
Another time, I stayed late at the library, and Victor texted me asking whether I planned to come home before dinner.<\/p>\n
I had never shared my location with him.<\/p>\n
Whenever we questioned him, he smiled and blamed his concern on being protective.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother worries about you,\u201d he would say. \u201cI’m just making sure everyone is safe.\u201d<\/p>\n
We tried to convince ourselves that he was simply controlling.<\/p>\n
We were wrong.<\/p>\n
On Mom’s birthday, Ethan and I decided to surprise her.<\/p>\n
I bought her a beautiful hardcover edition of the novel behind her favorite actress’s upcoming television series. Ethan chose a collectible Pop Mart figurine to add to her growing collection.<\/p>\n
We hadn’t told Victor we were coming because we wanted the visit to be a surprise.<\/p>\n
When we reached the house, something felt wrong immediately.<\/p>\n
Mom usually played music while cooking, but the windows were dark, and the entire house was silent.<\/p>\n
Ethan rang the doorbell.<\/p>\n
After nearly a minute, Victor appeared.<\/p>\n
He opened the door only a few inches.<\/p>\n
When he recognized us, the color drained from his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt’s Mom’s birthday,\u201d Ethan replied. \u201cWe came to see her.\u201d<\/p>\n
Victor glanced over his shoulder.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou shouldn’t have come.\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice was so frightened that I felt a chill crawl up my spine.<\/p>\n
\u201cMove,\u201d Ethan said, pushing the door wider.<\/p>\n
Victor tried to block him, but Ethan stepped around him, and I followed.<\/p>\n
We entered the living room.<\/p>\n
Then both of us stopped.<\/p>\n
The gifts slipped from our hands.<\/p>\n
Photographs covered the wall from floor to ceiling.<\/p>\n
There were pictures of Ethan leaving his apartment, me sitting at a caf\u00e9 with friends, and both of us walking through the parking garage at our workplaces.<\/p>\n
Some photographs had been taken from across the street.<\/p>\n
Others appeared to have been captured through windows.<\/p>\n
Then I saw a photograph of myself asleep in my childhood bedroom.<\/p>\n
The curtains were open.<\/p>\n
The picture had been taken from inside the room.<\/p>\n
My stomach turned.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom?\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n
She sat on the floor beneath the photographs, her face pale and her eyes swollen from crying. A thick folder lay open beside her.<\/p>\n
When she saw us, she scrambled to her feet.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease tell me you didn’t come here alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ethan moved toward her.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat does that mean? Mom, what’s happening?\u201d<\/p>\n
Victor shut the front door.<\/p>\n
The deadbolt clicked.<\/p>\n
Then the second lock turned.<\/p>\n
Ethan immediately reached for his phone.<\/p>\n
A message appeared before he could unlock it.<\/p>\n
Unknown number:<\/p>\n
If you want to know what your stepfather has been hiding, ask your mother what happened before their wedding.<\/p>\n
Ethan showed me the screen.<\/p>\n
Mom began shaking.<\/p>\n
Victor’s expression changed from fear to anger.<\/p>\n
\u201cPut the phone away,\u201d he ordered.<\/p>\n
Ethan ignored him.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, what happened before your wedding?\u201d<\/p>\n
She covered her mouth.<\/p>\n
For several seconds, she couldn’t speak.<\/p>\n
Then she looked at Victor and whispered, \u201cYou promised me they would never find out.\u201d<\/p>\n
Victor closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
And in that moment, I understood that the photographs weren’t the beginning of the nightmare.<\/p>\n
They were evidence of something that had started long before he entered our family.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho took these pictures?\u201d I demanded.<\/p>\n
Mom looked at the wall.<\/p>\n
\u201cI did.\u201d<\/p>\n
The answer was so unexpected that I couldn’t process it.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou took pictures of us in our bedrooms?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d she cried. \u201cNot those. I didn’t take those.\u201d<\/p>\n
She pointed to the photographs showing us outside the house.<\/p>\n
\u201cI took some of those during the first few months after Victor and I married. I wanted to document what was happening because I was afraid no one would believe me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat was happening?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom looked toward the hallway.<\/p>\n
\u201cVictor, please. Tell them the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn’t move.<\/p>\n
\u201cTell them what happened to Daniel.\u201d<\/p>\n
The name meant nothing to me.<\/p>\n
Ethan frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho’s Daniel?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom slowly lowered herself onto the sofa.<\/p>\n
\u201cBefore I met Victor, I was engaged to a man named Daniel Mercer. We were together for nearly three years. He was charming, successful, and very attentive. At first, I thought I had finally found someone who would give our family stability after your father died.\u201d<\/p>\n
Our biological father had died when Ethan was young and I was still in elementary school. Mom had spent years raising us alone.<\/p>\n
She had dated occasionally, but no relationship had ever become serious until Victor.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened to Daniel?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Mom looked down at her hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe became obsessed with controlling my life. He wanted to know where I was every minute. He questioned my friends, read my messages, and accused me of lying whenever I wanted to go somewhere without him.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ethan glanced at the photographs.<\/p>\n
\u201cLike Victor.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI ended the engagement after I discovered he had installed a tracking application on my phone without my permission. He told me he had done it because he loved me.\u201d<\/p>\n
My skin prickled.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you report him?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI tried to. But I had very little proof, and Daniel worked in private security. He knew how to make everything look innocent.\u201d<\/p>\n
She paused.<\/p>\n
\u201cThree weeks after I ended the engagement, Daniel disappeared.\u201d<\/p>\n
Victor finally spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe wasn’t missing. He had been arrested under another name in a neighboring state for an unrelated offense. The authorities eventually discovered his identity, but by then, he had already been released.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom stared at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow do you know that?\u201d<\/p>\n
Victor looked at the floor.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I was the one who found him.\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence filled the room.<\/p>\n
Ethan stepped forward.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho are you, really?\u201d<\/p>\n
Victor took a slow breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy name isn’t Victor Hale.\u201d<\/p>\n
He reached into his pocket and placed a driver’s license on the coffee table.<\/p>\n
His name was Marcus Reed.<\/p>\n
I stared at the photograph, then at the man standing in front of us.<\/p>\n
The face was the same.<\/p>\n
But the name was different.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy did you lie about your identity?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Marcus looked at Mom.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause Daniel was using my name.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom’s face went white.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe told me his name was Victor.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe was using a false identity when he met you,\u201d Marcus explained. \u201cMy name was one of several identities he had stolen over the years. When I discovered what he was doing, I reported it. I worked with investigators to establish which accounts and records belonged to him.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ethan shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat doesn’t explain why you’re married to our mother.\u201d<\/p>\n
Marcus looked exhausted.<\/p>\n
\u201cAfter Daniel disappeared, your mother received threatening messages. Someone had obtained copies of her private photographs and knew where you both went to school. The police suspected Daniel was involved, but they couldn’t locate him.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom wiped her cheeks.<\/p>\n
\u201cMarcus was the investigator who contacted me. He was helping the authorities organize the evidence against Daniel. At first, we communicated only through the police. Then the case stalled, and Marcus continued helping me improve the security of the house.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cSomewhere along the way, we fell in love.\u201d<\/p>\n
I wanted to believe that part.<\/p>\n
But there was still a wall covered with photographs of us, including pictures taken inside our bedrooms.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why are there pictures of us sleeping?\u201d I demanded.<\/p>\n
Marcus didn’t answer immediately.<\/p>\n
Mom did.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause Daniel came back.\u201d<\/p>\n
My heart began pounding.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAbout six months after Victor and I married,\u201d she said. \u201cSomeone sent me a photograph of Ethan leaving his apartment. The message said that if I wanted my children to remain safe, I needed to stop cooperating with the investigation.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ethan looked at the photograph of himself.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat’s why you kept asking where we were.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was terrified,\u201d Mom said. \u201cMarcus insisted we improve our security, and he told me not to tell you because he thought Daniel might try to contact you directly.\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned toward Marcus.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo you monitored us without our knowledge?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI made mistakes,\u201d he said. \u201cI should have told you what was happening. I should never have allowed you to believe that I was simply tracking you because I didn’t trust you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat’s not an answer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d he admitted. \u201cIt isn’t.\u201d<\/p>\n
His honesty surprised me, but it didn’t make the photographs less disturbing.<\/p>\n
Then I noticed something strange.<\/p>\n
The photographs of us were arranged in groups. Some had dates written beneath them. Others had small red marks in the corners.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are these marks?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Mom followed my gaze.<\/p>\n
\u201cThose are the photographs Daniel sent me.\u201d<\/p>\n
She opened the folder on the floor.<\/p>\n
Inside were printed emails, screenshots, and copies of threatening letters. Several included photographs that appeared to have been taken from inside our home.<\/p>\n
One showed Ethan standing in the kitchen.<\/p>\n
Another showed me walking down the hallway outside my bedroom.<\/p>\n
The dates were recent.<\/p>\n
Very recent.<\/p>\n
My throat tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cSomeone has been inside this house.\u201d<\/p>\n
Marcus nodded slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is what I feared.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ethan took out his phone again.<\/p>\n
The unknown number had sent another message.<\/p>\n
Ask him why he never told you about the room behind the garage.<\/p>\n
Marcus stared at the screen.<\/p>\n
For the first time, he looked genuinely terrified.<\/p>\n
Mom stood up.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. They can’t know about that.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ethan turned toward her.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat room?\u201d<\/p>\n
Marcus crossed the living room and opened a cabinet beneath the stairs. He removed a small key and handed it to Mom.<\/p>\n
She hesitated before taking it.<\/p>\n
Then she led us through the kitchen and out a side door into the rain.<\/p>\n
The detached garage stood at the far end of the property. Marcus unlocked it, turned on the overhead lights, and moved a stack of storage boxes away from the back wall.<\/p>\n
Behind them was a narrow door.<\/p>\n
Mom inserted the key.<\/p>\n
The room beyond was small, windowless, and filled with filing cabinets, computer equipment, and sealed evidence boxes.<\/p>\n
It wasn’t a secret bedroom or a place where someone had been held.<\/p>\n
It was a private archive.<\/p>\n
On a desk lay a printed photograph of Daniel Mercer.<\/p>\n
Under it was a folder marked with a date from several weeks earlier.<\/p>\n
Ethan opened the folder.<\/p>\n
The first page contained a report stating that a man using one of Daniel’s known aliases had recently accessed a property database and obtained information about our home.<\/p>\n
The second page contained a photograph of a car parked near our street.<\/p>\n
The third contained a handwritten note.<\/p>\n
She still believes Marcus is protecting her. The children are the easiest way to reach her.<\/p>\n
My hands went cold.<\/p>\n
\u201cDaniel wrote this?\u201d<\/p>\n
Marcus shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe don’t know. The handwriting hasn’t been verified. It could have been written by someone working with him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why didn’t you call the police?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI did,\u201d Marcus replied. \u201cBut the threats were anonymous, and we couldn’t establish who had sent them. I wanted to wait until we had enough evidence to identify the person responsible.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom turned toward him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou told me the police had everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you they had the evidence we could verify. I didn’t tell you that the investigation had stalled again.\u201d<\/p>\n
She stared at him in disbelief.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou let me live in fear without telling me the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was trying to protect you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d she said, her voice trembling. \u201cYou were trying to control what I knew because you thought you could make better decisions for me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Marcus lowered his head.<\/p>\n
Mom was right.<\/p>\n
Whatever his intentions, he had repeated the very behavior that had frightened her in her previous relationship: deciding what information she could handle, monitoring her movements, and expecting her to accept his choices without question.<\/p>\n
The difference between protection and control suddenly seemed painfully clear.<\/p>\n
Before anyone could say more, a noise came from the garage entrance.<\/p>\n
Footsteps.<\/p>\n
Marcus turned off the lights.<\/p>\n
We stood in darkness, listening.<\/p>\n
A door creaked.<\/p>\n
Then a man’s voice called from outside.<\/p>\n
\u201cMarcus? I know you’re in there.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom gripped my arm.<\/p>\n
Ethan reached for his phone.<\/p>\n
Marcus whispered, \u201cStay behind me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I shook my head.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. We’re calling the police.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at me, then nodded.<\/p>\n
Ethan called emergency services and gave the address. I stayed close to Mom while Marcus quietly moved us toward the inner door that connected the archive to the house.<\/p>\n
The footsteps approached.<\/p>\n
Then the man spoke again.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can’t keep hiding the records forever.\u201d<\/p>\n
Marcus opened the inner door, ushered us through, and locked it behind us.<\/p>\n
A heavy impact struck the garage door.<\/p>\n
Mom gasped.<\/p>\n
Another impact followed.<\/p>\n
The door rattled in its frame.<\/p>\n
Ethan stayed on the phone with the dispatcher, reporting each sound and following instructions. Marcus led us into the kitchen, away from the garage, while I helped Mom sit down.<\/p>\n
Then we heard glass shatter.<\/p>\n
Someone had broken a window.<\/p>\n
The police arrived within minutes.<\/p>\n
We heard officers shouting commands outside, followed by the sound of a struggle. A few moments later, an officer knocked on the kitchen door and identified herself.<\/p>\n
The house was secured.<\/p>\n
The man had been arrested while attempting to escape through the side yard.<\/p>\n
His name was Daniel Mercer.<\/p>\n
For two years, we had feared that our uneasiness around Marcus meant he was dangerous.<\/p>\n
But the person who had been watching us, collecting our photographs, and threatening our family was the man Mom had escaped before she ever met him.<\/p>\n
Daniel had used stolen identities, false accounts, and other people’s information to conceal his movements. He had been sending threats through disposable phone numbers and obtaining photographs through a network of people who had access to private information.<\/p>\n
The police recovered electronic devices from his vehicle, including photographs taken near our home. They also found records connecting him to the anonymous messages.<\/p>\n
The investigation later established that he had entered our property on multiple occasions when the house was empty. He had used an old access code that Mom had never realized was still active, allowing him to reach the interior hallway.<\/p>\n
That was how some of the photographs had been taken.<\/p>\n
The knowledge that he had stood inside our home while we slept made me feel sick.<\/p>\n
But the police also found something else: evidence that Daniel had been preparing to approach Mom under another false identity, hoping to frighten her into withdrawing her cooperation with the investigation.<\/p>\n
His plan had been to make her believe that Marcus was responsible for the surveillance, then use the resulting distrust to isolate her.<\/p>\n
The photographs on the wall had been part of that plan.<\/p>\n
Some had been taken by Daniel. Others had been collected from public posts and private accounts he had accessed unlawfully. Marcus had displayed the evidence together because he wanted Mom to recognize the pattern and understand the danger.<\/p>\n
But he had made a terrible mistake.<\/p>\n
He had kept the photographs on a visible wall rather than securing them in the archive. He had allowed fear to dictate how he treated his family. And he had failed to tell us enough to make informed decisions about our own safety.<\/p>\n
The police took possession of the photographs, computers, and documents. Daniel was charged with offenses supported by the evidence, including unlawful entry, stalking, and threats. Additional charges followed as investigators traced his use of stolen identities and unauthorized access to private information.<\/p>\n
The case took months to resolve.<\/p>\n
During that time, Mom stayed with my aunt while Ethan and I changed our routines and worked with investigators to secure our accounts and devices.<\/p>\n
Marcus cooperated fully with the investigation. He admitted that he had monitored our movements without adequately explaining why and accepted that his secrecy had damaged our trust.<\/p>\n
Mom moved back into the house only after the security measures were reviewed and the police confirmed that the immediate threat had been addressed.<\/p>\n
But things between her and Marcus were not instantly repaired.<\/p>\n
One evening, I visited Mom and found her sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you still love him?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
She considered the question for a long time.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d she said. \u201cBut love isn’t enough if I can’t feel safe telling the truth in my own home.\u201d<\/p>\n
She explained that she and Marcus had begun counseling. She had set clear boundaries: no secret monitoring, no hidden decisions about her safety, and no withholding information that directly affected her or her children.<\/p>\n
Marcus had agreed.<\/p>\n
He also understood that trust would have to be rebuilt through consistent behavior rather than promises.<\/p>\n
A few months later, Ethan and I sat down with him for the first time since Daniel’s arrest.<\/p>\n
Marcus didn’t try to justify himself.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought I could keep all of you safe if I knew where everyone was,\u201d he said. \u201cI became so focused on the threat that I stopped seeing how frightening my behavior had become.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ethan folded his arms.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou could have told us.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI should have.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou could have let us make decisions about our own safety.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI should have done that too.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at the man who had once seemed to know everything about our lives.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy did you keep the photographs on the wall?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother wanted to see the evidence,\u201d he said. \u201cShe needed to know that the threats weren’t imaginary. I thought putting everything together would help her recognize the danger. I didn’t think about how it would look to you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt looked like someone had been watching us in our bedrooms.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know,\u201d he replied quietly. \u201cI’m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n
It wasn’t a perfect apology, but it was the first time he had acknowledged the harm without hiding behind the word protection.<\/p>\n
Over time, Marcus began to earn back some of our trust. He stopped demanding our schedules, stopped asking for access to our phones, and learned to accept that we could care about Mom without surrendering our independence.<\/p>\n
Mom also became more confident about speaking up when something felt wrong. She no longer confused silence with peace or control with love.<\/p>\n
On the first anniversary of Daniel’s arrest, we celebrated Mom’s birthday again.<\/p>\n
Ethan brought her another collectible figurine. I bought her a new novel by her favorite author.<\/p>\n
This time, we called before arriving.<\/p>\n
When Mom opened the door, she laughed and pulled us both into a hug.<\/p>\n
The locks were still on the doors, but the curtains were open. Sunlight filled the living room, and the wall that had once been covered with photographs was bare.<\/p>\n
The evidence had been secured by the police.<\/p>\n
The room behind the garage had been cleared and returned to ordinary storage.<\/p>\n
And for the first time in years, our family could sit together without wondering who was watching.<\/p>\n
Before we left that evening, Mom took my hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cI should have told you what was happening,\u201d she said. \u201cI was so afraid of losing you that I forgot you deserved the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
I squeezed her fingers.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe were afraid too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked toward the front window, where the last light of the day rested against the glass.<\/p>\n
\u201cI used to think that if I could control every detail, nothing bad would ever happen again. But all I did was make everyone afraid to speak.\u201d<\/p>\n
I hugged her.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don’t have to protect us from the truth, Mom. We can face it together.\u201d<\/p>\n
She cried then, but they were different tears from the ones I had seen on the floor beneath the photographs.<\/p>\n
They were the tears of someone finally allowing herself to breathe.<\/p>\n
I had once believed that the most frightening thing about our stepfather was how much he knew about us.<\/p>\n
Now I understood that the real danger had been the secrets surrounding our family\u2014the threats that went unexplained, the fear that went unspoken, and the belief that keeping people in the dark was the same as keeping them safe.<\/p>\n
Daniel had tried to use those secrets to destroy our trust.<\/p>\n
He failed.<\/p>\n
Because once the truth came into the light, we could finally decide for ourselves what safety, love, and family were supposed to mean.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The Photographs on My Mother\u2019s Wall My brother and I had never trusted our stepfather, but neither of us could explain exactly why. His name was Victor, and he had … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":15341,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15345","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\/15345","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=15345"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15345\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15346,"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15345\/revisions\/15346"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/15341"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=15345"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=15345"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ngareadfullstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=15345"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}