Lauren tapped the routing numbers printed at the bottom of the pages with the tip of her pen. \u201cThe final destination account is identical. They feature different shell labels on the front end, but every single cent funnels directly into an account ending in numbers 4492.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach plummeted in a visceral, sickening drop. \u201cCharles opened a shadow bank account behind my back.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe opened a shadow account that he heavily subsidized using your personal liquidity,\u201d Lauren corrected precisely.<\/p>\n
While we waited for the bank\u2019s fraud department to expedite the full destination account details over an encrypted line, Lauren leaned back in her chair and fixed her hawk-like eyes on me. \u201cTalk to me about the primary accomplice, Penelope.\u201d<\/p>\n
Saying her name out loud felt like chewing on broken glass. \u201cWe met as freshmen in college, and for over twenty years, she was the vault where I stored my darkest personal secrets.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid she suffer severe financial instability recently?\u201d Lauren asked, taking a note.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot until about fourteen months ago,\u201d I recalled, tracing the timeline in my head. \u201cHer marketing firm downsized and she lost her executive job, which caused her to panic about potentially losing her downtown condo. Charles offered to step in and help her manage her personal budget during the transition.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lauren scribbled furiously on her pad. \u201cSo Charles positioned himself as her financial savior.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI genuinely thought he was just being a supportive husband to my oldest friend,\u201d I admitted.<\/p>\n
\u201cOr,\u201d Lauren said softly, looking up from her legal pad, \u201cthat is precisely when the foundation of the affair was laid, and Charles realized he required extra capital if he wanted to play the hero in her life.\u201d<\/p>\n
A sickening montage of recent memories flooded my brain, including Penelope pulling up to my house in a pristine, late-model SUV that she claimed was a miracle lease deal, the sudden appearance of expensive designer handbags she swore were thrift store finds, and the luxury weekend spa retreats she brushed off as internet promotional steals. I had never questioned any of it because my default setting with her had always been absolute, unshakeable trust.<\/p>\n
My laptop chimed loudly as the bank\u2019s fraud department delivered the expanded transfer logs via secure PDF. We leaned in close together, shoulder-to-shoulder, to review the unmasked data. The document decoded the mystery of account 4492, proving that the destination was not the only damning detail, but that the technical mechanism of the theft was far worse.<\/p>\n
\u201cAudrey,\u201d Lauren whispered, her manicured finger tracing the digital ink on the screen. \u201cLook closely at the IP origination address for these authorizations.\u201d<\/p>\n
I followed her finger across the line of technical text. The electronic authorizations for the massive financial transfers had not originated from our shared home network, nor had they come from my corporate office computer. The IP address pinged directly back to the desktop computer sitting inside Charles\u2019s construction firm office.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe was not just moving money between accounts,\u201d I breathed, the terrifying reality tightening around my throat. \u201cHe was digitally forging my personal authorization protocols.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lauren slammed her laptop shut with a loud crack that echoed like a gunshot in the quiet room. \u201cThis situation just escalated from a messy divorce involving unauthorized spending to full-blown felony identity theft and federal wire fraud. He weaponized your digital signature to rob you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned my head to look across the room at a framed photograph sitting on the fireplace mantle, showing Charles, Penelope, and me with our arms draped over each other\u2019s shoulders, laughing at some forgotten joke during a summer barbecue. We looked like a trinity of close friends, but we had been a predator, an accomplice, and a fool.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere is one more cherry on top of this toxic sundae,\u201d Lauren said, pulling up a final document from the newly acquired bank file. \u201cThat luxury apartment lease downtown that was funded entirely by your money?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat about that apartment?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe primary leaseholder listed on the legal contract is not Charles Abernathy,\u201d Lauren revealed. \u201cThe primary tenant listed on the lease is Penelope Webb.\u201d<\/p>\n
I closed my eyes tightly as the truth settled into my chest. \u201cI have been paying the monthly rent for my husband\u2019s mistress.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt appears that way,\u201d Lauren said plainly. \u201cThe affair was never the primary betrayal here, Audrey. The affair was merely the emotional motive, whereas the true betrayal was the methodical, cold-blooded financial slaughter of your personal autonomy.\u201d<\/p>\n
As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, bruised shadows across the dining room table, an automated notification pinged on my phone screen:<\/p>\n
\u201cSECURITY ALERT: Multiple failed login attempts to Cloud Storage via external IP Address (Location: Saint Martin).\u201d<\/p>\n
Lauren smirked, a sharp, dangerous expression appearing on her face. \u201cThey are completely locked out of the liquid cash, so now they are desperately trying to access your digital storage vault. They want to look at your tax returns to see how much legal leverage they might have.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey have zero leverage against me,\u201d I said, a deep, freezing calm settling into my bones.<\/p>\n
Lauren packed her leather briefcase with brisk, militaristic movements, dividing our financial findings into three distinct legal categories: Fraudulent Asset Transfers, Forged Digital Authorizations, and Unauthorized Digital Trespass.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere are your strict rules of engagement, effective immediately,\u201d Lauren ordered, standing by my front door before leaving. \u201cYou do not answer a single text message from Charles under any circumstances. You do not pick up the phone if Penelope calls you. If either of them materializes on your property, you dial 911 instantly. You are a complete ghost to them.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd what happens when they finally realize they are stranded overseas without cash?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Lauren\u2019s smile turned purely predatory. \u201cThey can scream into the empty void, or they can choose to speak directly to me.\u201d She paused, resting her hand on the brass brass doorknob. \u201cPeople who have lived a comfortable lie for this long always make one fatal, arrogant mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat mistake is that?\u201d I inquired.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey truly believe they can talk their way out of anything,\u201d Lauren said. \u201cThey will come back here, Audrey. Prepare yourself for the impact.\u201d<\/p>\n
I locked the door behind her and listened to her car drive away. The house returned to complete silence, but the lingering feeling of dread was entirely gone. I was no longer a victim waiting passively for an executioner\u2019s axe to fall, but rather the executioner myself, wielding an axe made of paper, ink, and irrefutable numbers.<\/p>\n
Lauren\u2019s prophecy manifested in full force in less than forty-eight hours.<\/p>\n
It was a brilliant, unseasonably warm Saturday afternoon, the exact kind of clear spring day that usually begs for cold lemonade and open windows. I was out in the front yard, methodically pruning the deadwood from the climbing rose bushes along the porch, when a battered yellow airport taxi groaned to a sudden halt against my curb.<\/p>\n
The passenger door swung open, and the faded illusion of Saint Martin spilled directly onto the hot asphalt.<\/p>\n
I recognized Charles immediately, though he looked like a degraded, low-quality photocopy of the man in the beach photograph. His designer polo shirt was heavily rumpled and stained with travel sweat, his jaw was covered in patchy, dark scruff, and the casual arrogance he usually wore like a tailored suit had completely evaporated. Penelope climbed out of the opposite side of the cab, dragging two massive, overstuffed suitcases across the street, one of which was a expensive rolling bag I distinctly remembered purchasing for myself. The atmospheric tension between the two of them was thick enough to choke on, as they were neither speaking to one another nor making basic eye contact. Financial poverty, it seemed, was the ultimate buzzkill in paradise.<\/p>\n
I did not panic, nor did I attempt to run inside. I calmly placed my heavy pruning shears on the brick retaining wall, wiped the garden soil from my work gloves, and walked up the front steps into the house, quietly engaging the heavy security latch just before they reached the porch.<\/p>\n
Three frantic, heavy knocks vibrated through the solid oak wood.<\/p>\n
\u201cAudrey!\u201d Charles shouted from the porch, his voice straining. \u201cAudrey, open the door!\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood in the entryway, leaning against the wall and keeping my breathing steady.<\/p>\n
\u201cAudrey, I know your car is parked in the driveway!\u201d he yelled again, hitting the door with the palm of his hand. \u201cI know you are in there!\u201d<\/p>\n
Only then did I slowly unlock the primary deadbolt and pull the heavy door open just wide enough for the brass security chain to pull completely taut between the frame and the door. Charles\u2019s pale face appeared in the narrow three-inch crack, featuring a desperate, manufactured smile plastered across his lips.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere you are,\u201d he said, breathing heavily. \u201cThank god.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared through the gap, keeping my face utterly blank. \u201cWhat is your business on my property?\u201d<\/p>\n
The fake smile instantly vanished from his lips, replaced by a look of petulant annoyance. \u201cThe credit cards are completely dead, Audrey. Every single one of them was declined.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am well aware of that fact,\u201d I replied coolly.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe have been trying to call your phone for two straight days!\u201d he snapped.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am aware of that as well,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou changed the locks on my house!\u201d he shouted, glaring at the new brass hardware.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, I changed every lock on my house,\u201d I corrected gently.<\/p>\n
Penelope pushed her way into my narrow line of sight, her face pinched with intense indignation as she looked through the crack. \u201cOkay, Audrey, you have made your dramatic point now. Can we please just come inside the house? We are completely exhausted from traveling.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at her through the gap, taking a moment to really look at her face. This was the woman who had held my hand during my mother\u2019s funeral, yet she was currently wearing a expensive sapphire necklace I had bought her while secretly sleeping with my husband.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, Penelope,\u201d I said, keeping my voice eerily soft. \u201cI have not even begun to make my actual point yet.\u201d<\/p>\n
She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, feigning defiance. \u201cWe just need to come inside so we can sit down and talk about this like rational adults.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCharles explicitly stated in a written text message that you were never coming back,\u201d I reminded her, looking back at my ex-husband.<\/p>\n
Charles dragged a trembling hand down his sweaty face, looking thoroughly exasperated. \u201cPeople say completely crazy things when their emotions are running high, Audrey. You know that as well as I do. Can we please not have this argument on the front porch where all the neighbors can watch us?\u201d<\/p>\n
I glanced past his broad shoulder and saw Mrs. Mitchell across the street, who had completely stopped checking her mailbox and was now staring openly at the scene unfolding on my lawn.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, we will not be speaking inside,\u201d I said flatly.<\/p>\n
Charles lowered his voice to a frantic, harsh hiss. \u201cThe resort manager locked us completely out of our hotel suite because the payment card was flagged for fraud! We had to literally pawn my wristwatch at a local shop just to secure basic flight tickets back home. I need immediate access to my checking accounts, Audrey!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStop saying words like \u2018you know\u2019 and referring to \u2018my accounts,’\u201d I corrected, carefully enunciating every single syllable. \u201cI terminated those supplementary credit lines because you stole my financial authorization.\u201d<\/p>\n
Penelope scoffed loudly, an ugly, grating sound echoing off the porch walls. \u201cYou had zero legal right to do that to us! Everything Charles owns belongs to the marriage, which means half of those assets are legally his anyway!\u201d<\/p>\n
I could not suppress the genuine, dark chuckle that bubbled up in my throat at her statement. \u201cActually, Penelope, the banking institutions and the Commonwealth of Kentucky vehemently disagree with your legal assessment.\u201d<\/p>\n
Charles\u2019s jaw clenched so hard I thought his back teeth might crack under the pressure. \u201cWe are still legally married, Audrey! Half of that liquid capital belongs to me!\u201d<\/p>\n
I locked eyes directly with him through the narrow crack, letting the full weight of my absolute contempt bleed through my voice. \u201cThen your legal counsel will have a spectacular time attempting to prove that argument during discovery.\u201d<\/p>\n
The word \u201cdiscovery\u201d hit Charles like a physical blow to the chest, causing the remaining bluster to drain out of him completely. \u201cWhat\u2026 what are you talking about right now?\u201d<\/p>\n
Penelope grabbed his upper arm tightly, clearly sensing the dangerous shift in the wind. \u201cCharles, let us just get some liquid cash from her and grab our personal clothes. We can go stay at a hotel downtown.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy personal retirement portfolio was never designed to subsidize your tropical infidelity,\u201d I noted dryly.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was not a honeymoon trip!\u201d Charles pleaded, backpedaling wildly as he grabbed the edge of the door. \u201cIt was a mistake, Audrey. It was just a massive, incredibly stupid mistake!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand precisely what it was,\u201d I said, reaching into the entryway console table to retrieve the thick manila envelope that Lauren had couriered over earlier that morning. I slid the edges of the document through the narrow crack in the door.<\/p>\n
Charles took the paper envelope hesitantly, tore open the top flap, and pulled out the thick stack of legal filings. As his eyes scanned the bold black header text at the top of the first page, the remaining color rapidly drained from his face, leaving him looking like an unburied corpse.<\/p>\n
\u201cPETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEMERGENCY MOTION FOR TEMPORARY FINANCIAL INJUNCTION.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cORDER TO PRESERVE MARITAL AND NON-MARITAL ASSETS.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2026 you already filed these with the court?\u201d he stammered, the heavy papers trembling visibly in his hands. \u201cYou did not even give us a single chance to talk this through!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou formally announced the immediate termination of our twenty-three-year marriage via a text message sent from a beach chair,\u201d I replied calmly. \u201cI simply formalized the legal paperwork on this end.\u201d<\/p>\n
Penelope leaned over his trembling shoulder, trying desperately to read the dense legalese on the page. \u201cWhat does all of this mean, Charles? What did she file?\u201d<\/p>\n
Charles swallowed hard, his Adam\u2019s apple bobbing in his throat. \u201cIt means\u2026 it means she has legally frozen every single financial account with her name attached to it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is correct,\u201d I affirmed. \u201cYour struggling construction business will now have to survive solely on the limited funds registered directly to its own corporate account, without my personal capital injections.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked up at me through the gap, sheer terror visible in his eyes. \u201cYou know about the transfers.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know a magnificent amount more today than I did seventy-two hours ago,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat does that mean, Audrey? What else did you find in those accounts?\u201d he asked, his voice cracking.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt means my retained legal counsel, Lauren Cohen, has been incredibly thorough in her investigation.\u201d<\/p>\n
Penelope took a step back on the porch, her false bravado shattering instantly. \u201cWho is Lauren Cohen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe is my attorney,\u201d I said smoothly. \u201cAnd she is an absolute predator in a courtroom.\u201d<\/p>\n
Charles took an urgent step closer to the door crack, his voice rising in panic. \u201cYou hired a legal shark over a simple personal mistake?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI did not hire a shark for a mistake,\u201d I corrected. \u201cI hired an exterminator for a systemic crime.\u201d<\/p>\n
He realized in that exact second that this was no longer a simple domestic argument that could be smoothed over with apologies. He was not going to charm or manipulate his way back into my bed or my personal bank accounts, as the entire game board had been permanently flipped.<\/p>\n
\u201cLet us just get our personal belongings,\u201d Penelope whimpered, tugging frantically at Charles\u2019s sleeve. \u201cPlease, Charles, let us just get our clothes and go.\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded my head toward the side of the house. \u201cYour personal belongings have already been fully prepared for departure.\u201d<\/p>\n
Both of them turned around on the porch to look where I pointed. Stacked neatly beneath the protective overhang of the carport were thirty large cardboard moving boxes containing every suit, every pair of shoes, every piece of clothing, every golf club, and every personal item they had left behind. I had not destroyed a single piece of property, but had instead packed everything with the same chilling, meticulous care I applied to my corporate spreadsheets.<\/p>\n
Penelope\u2019s mouth fell wide open as she stared at the mountain of cardboard. \u201cYou packed up my entire apartment contents too?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI had plenty of uninterrupted free time over the last two days,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Charles drifted slowly toward the carport like a man walking in a trance, reading the black marker labels written on the side of each box: \u201cOffice,\u201d \u201cWinter Wear,\u201d \u201cSporting Equipment.\u201d He stopped beside a smaller box labeled \u201cSentimental Items,\u201d popped the packing tape, and looked inside to find framed photographs of our old vacations and our wedding day, all carefully wrapped in protective bubble wrap.<\/p>\n
He turned back toward the front porch, his eyes shining with unshed tears. \u201cYou packed up all our shared memories. You are just throwing our entire history away into boxes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThose memories belong exclusively to your narrative now,\u201d I said. \u201cThey are completely useless to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Guilt, genuine and visceral, finally washed over his features as he stared at me through the crack in the door. \u201cAudrey\u2026 please. I will end it with her right now. Today.\u201d<\/p>\n
Penelope gasped loudly, taking a sudden step back as if she had been struck across the face. \u201cCharles! What on earth are you saying right now?!\u201d<\/p>\n
He did not even turn to look at her, but kept his desperate eyes locked entirely on the narrow crack in my front door. \u201cI will leave Penelope immediately. I will move back inside, we can go to intensive marriage therapy, and I will fix everything I broke. I promise you.\u201d<\/p>\n
The desperate words hung heavy in the warm spring air, sounding completely pathetic. It was the frantic bargaining of a parasitic man who had suddenly realized his host body had developed an aggressive immune system.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou did not leave this house because you were confused, Charles,\u201d I said softly, the absolute finality of my tone ringing clearly through the door. \u201cYou left because you calculated that I would always remain your soft safety net, and you foolishly believed I was too weak to fight back.\u201d<\/p>\n
Before he could formulate another lie, the sharp wail of a police siren cut through the quiet neighborhood streets. Two black-and-white patrol cruisers turned sharply onto my cul-de-sac with their light bars flashing silently in the midday sun, painting the manicured lawns in aggressive hues of red and blue.<\/p>\n
Penelope shrieked in horror, backing away from the cardboard boxes. \u201cCharles! Did you call the police on us again?!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI did not call them!\u201d Charles yelled back, throwing his hands up.<\/p>\n
Officer Sterling stepped out of the lead cruiser, his hand resting casually on his utility belt as Officer Ramirez flanked him on the right. They strode up the concrete driveway, recognizing the cast of characters instantly.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood afternoon, Mrs. Abernathy,\u201d Officer Sterling called out, tipping his hat toward the porch.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood afternoon, Officer Sterling,\u201d I replied through the door.<\/p>\n
Officer Sterling turned his imposing bulk toward Charles, his face stern. \u201cMr. Abernathy. We meet again.\u201d<\/p>\n
Charles raised both hands with his palms facing outward in a universal sign of surrender. \u201cWe were not doing anything illegal here! We were simply trying to retrieve our personal belongings!\u201d<\/p>\n
Officer Sterling\u2019s face looked as though it were carved from solid granite. \u201cDispatch received a 911 call regarding individuals attempting to breach a secure residential property after being legally notified to vacate.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was not forcing my way inside!\u201d Charles cried out, pointing a trembling finger at the chained door.<\/p>\n
\u201cHowever, you are currently trespassing on private property,\u201d Officer Sterling corrected sternly. \u201cUnless Mrs. Abernathy is inviting you inside for a conversation?\u201d<\/p>\n
Officer Sterling looked directly at me through the gap, and I slowly shook my head side to side.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe are still legally married!\u201d Charles shouted, his voice cracking with rising hysteria. \u201cThis house is a shared marital asset!\u201d<\/p>\n
Officer Sterling let out a tired sigh, the sigh of a veteran law enforcement officer who was thoroughly exhausted by domestic stupidity. \u201cMr. Abernathy, our precinct has already reviewed the property deed and the emergency financial injunction filed with the court this morning. This specific real estate is solely titled to the woman standing behind that door, meaning you have zero legal standing to be standing on this concrete porch.\u201d<\/p>\n
Charles\u2019s mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a landed fish, as the harsh reality of his total disenfranchisement finally crushed his spirit. The boastful swagger of the Saint Martin playboy was officially dead and buried.<\/p>\n
\u201cLoad your cardboard boxes into the back of that yellow taxi,\u201d Officer Ramirez instructed, pointing toward the cab driver who was looking increasingly terrified behind his wheel. \u201cWe will stand right here and wait until you are finished.\u201d<\/p>\n
It took them twenty minutes of deeply humiliating, sweaty manual labor to cram their shattered lives into the trunk and backseat of the yellow taxi under the watchful gaze of the local police officers. Before ducking into the backseat of the cab, Charles turned back toward my porch one final time, his eyes dark with sudden, impotent malice.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is not over yet, Audrey,\u201d he spat out.<\/p>\n
I met his bitter gaze through the narrow crack in the door, keeping my voice completely steady and cold. \u201cI know it is not over, Charles. But the next time we speak\u2026 make sure you bring your criminal defense lawyer.\u201d<\/p>\n
The yellow taxi sped away down the street with its tires squealing against the asphalt. I closed the heavy oak door, slid the deadbolt home into the frame, and leaned my back against the solid wood. My phone buzzed in my robe pocket, displaying a fresh email from Lauren:<\/p>\n
\u201cSubject: Legal Proceedings.<\/p>\n
Message: Opposing counsel has officially filed a response. We have a court date set in thirty days. Rest up, because we are going to war.\u201d<\/p>\n
Thirty days later, I walked deliberately into the Franklin County Courthouse. The surrounding architecture was imposing, featuring vast expanses of gray slate, echoing marble corridors, and the sterile hum of security metal detectors. I had been inside this building before as an expert financial witness, hired to explain complex corporate malfeasance to bored juries, but today I was the primary plaintiff seeking justice for my own life.<\/p>\n
Lauren Cohen was waiting for me outside Courtroom 4B, clad in a razor-sharp charcoal business suit and clutching two massive, color-coded trial binders under her arm.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow is your heart rate doing?\u201d she asked, assessing my calm demeanor with a quick glance.<\/p>\n
Lauren tapped the routing numbers printed at the bottom of the pages with the tip of her pen. \u201cThe final … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3825","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-amomama-post"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/amomama.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3825","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/amomama.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/amomama.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/amomama.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/amomama.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3825"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/amomama.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3825\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3828,"href":"https:\/\/amomama.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3825\/revisions\/3828"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/amomama.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3825"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/amomama.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3825"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/amomama.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3825"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}