Evelyn did not move toward the door immediately.<\/p>\n
That hesitation frightened me more than the woman outside.<\/p>\n
Until then, Evelyn Roth had seemed incapable of uncertainty. She handled grief, accusation, and money with the same measured calm, as though every difficult conversation could be made manageable if everyone simply stopped talking long enough to read the documents.<\/p>\n
Now she was staring toward Martha\u2019s hallway with one hand resting flat on the kitchen table.<\/p>\n
The doorbell rang a second time.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho is she?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Evelyn lowered her voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cHer name is Rebecca Lane.\u201d<\/p>\n
The name meant nothing to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWas she a student of Martha\u2019s?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA relative?\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn looked at the envelope in front of me.<\/p>\n
\u201cIn a manner of speaking.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is a lawyer\u2019s answer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd this is Martha\u2019s kitchen.\u201d<\/p>\n
The smallest hint of a smile touched her mouth.<\/p>\n
\u201cMartha would have said something similar.\u201d<\/p>\n
The bell rang again, followed by a soft knock.<\/p>\n
I stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre we going to leave her outside?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn rose too.<\/p>\n
Before we reached the hallway, she touched my arm.<\/p>\n
\u201cClara, I cannot tell you everything before Rebecca does. Some of it is hers to disclose.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen tell me what I need to know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn considered that.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe has spent most of her life believing Martha did not want to see her.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked toward the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Martha?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe spent most of her life believing Rebecca wanted nothing to do with her.\u201d<\/p>\n
A knot formed low in my stomach.<\/p>\n
The phrase Martha had used returned with uncomfortable clarity.<\/p>\n
Arthur isn\u2019t the only child I failed.<\/p>\n
I opened the door.<\/p>\n
Rebecca Lane stood on the porch holding an old photograph in both hands.<\/p>\n
Up close, I could see that she had driven some distance. Dust streaked the lower panels of her dark blue car. Her hair, mostly brown with a heavy band of silver at the temples, had been tied back carelessly. She wore no makeup.<\/p>\n
Her face was ordinary until she looked at me.<\/p>\n
Then I saw Martha.<\/p>\n
Not strongly.<\/p>\n
Not enough that anyone passing on the street would have stopped.<\/p>\n
But around the eyes there was something unmistakable.<\/p>\n
The same slight downward tilt at the outside corners.<\/p>\n
The same habit of pressing her lips together before asking a difficult question.<\/p>\n
Rebecca looked over my shoulder into the house.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs Evelyn here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn stepped beside me.<\/p>\n
Rebecca\u2019s posture loosened by a fraction.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou came,\u201d Evelyn said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI almost didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou must be Clara.\u201d<\/p>\n
The fact that she knew my name unsettled me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMartha wrote about you.\u201d<\/p>\n
My hand tightened against the edge of the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cIn the letter you received?\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca shook her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe wrote to me more than once.\u201d<\/p>\n
A gust lifted a strand of hair against her cheek.<\/p>\n
I stepped aside.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome in.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca hesitated at the threshold.<\/p>\n
Her eyes traveled across the narrow hallway, the old brass umbrella stand, the framed watercolor of the Chesapeake hanging near the staircase.<\/p>\n
She did not enter.<\/p>\n
\u201cHas anything been changed?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSince Martha died?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca nodded.<\/p>\n
Then she crossed the threshold.<\/p>\n
Her breath caught almost silently.<\/p>\n
I closed the door behind her.<\/p>\n
She stood in the hallway, taking in everything.<\/p>\n
The umbrella stand.<\/p>\n
The runner rug.<\/p>\n
The staircase.<\/p>\n
The little wooden table where Martha kept unopened mail.<\/p>\n
Rebecca reached toward the banister but stopped before touching it.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe kept it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn glanced at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe house?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe wallpaper.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at the faded cream paper patterned with tiny green leaves.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou remember it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca gave me a strange expression.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then she looked down at the photograph.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother described it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mother.<\/p>\n
The word changed the room.<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
Rebecca noticed.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo Evelyn didn\u2019t tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOnly your name.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca looked at Evelyn.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then she turned the photograph around.<\/p>\n
It showed three young people standing in front of Martha\u2019s house decades earlier.<\/p>\n
A young Martha.<\/p>\n
A man I recognized from pictures as her husband, Henry.<\/p>\n
And another woman.<\/p>\n
The photograph had faded toward yellow. Martha could not have been more than twenty-five.<\/p>\n
Rebecca pointed to the third woman.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was my mother.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked carefully.<\/p>\n
She was slender, dark-haired, smiling broadly while Martha stood with one arm looped through hers.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho was she?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnna Lane.\u201d<\/p>\n
Something stirred in my memory.<\/p>\n
Martha had once mentioned an Anna.<\/p>\n
Not often.<\/p>\n
Years earlier, while sorting Christmas decorations, she had held up a glass ornament painted with tiny white stars and said, Anna gave me this before either of us knew how badly we could hurt each other.<\/p>\n
I had assumed Anna was an old friend.<\/p>\n
Maybe she was.<\/p>\n
Rebecca lowered the photograph.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother died three months ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked around the hallway again.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen I was cleaning out her apartment, I found a box.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat kind of box?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLetters.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn motioned toward the kitchen.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe should sit.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca followed us reluctantly.<\/p>\n
When she entered Martha\u2019s kitchen, she stopped beside the table.<\/p>\n
Her face changed.<\/p>\n
For a moment, she looked less like a woman in her sixties and more like someone seeing the location of an old dream.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe described this room too.\u201d<\/p>\n
I pulled out a chair.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow well did your mother know Martha?\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca remained standing.<\/p>\n
\u201cVery well.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then she looked at Evelyn.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou might as well give Clara the other letter.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn\u2019s eyebrows lifted.<\/p>\n
\u201cMartha\u2019s instructions were to wait until you were comfortable.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve spent fifty-eight years waiting for adults to decide when I\u2019m comfortable.\u201d<\/p>\n
The sentence carried no drama.<\/p>\n
That made it harsher.<\/p>\n
Evelyn opened her leather case.<\/p>\n
She removed a sealed envelope bearing Rebecca\u2019s name.<\/p>\n
Not mine.<\/p>\n
Rebecca saw my confusion.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s one for you too,\u201d she said. \u201cBut not yet.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow many letters did Martha leave?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEnough,\u201d Evelyn said, \u201cto prove she understood that some conversations cannot be entrusted to memory.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca sat.<\/p>\n
She placed the old photograph beside her.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother and Martha were cousins.\u201d<\/p>\n
I blinked.<\/p>\n
\u201cCousins?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSecond cousins technically. But they grew up almost like sisters.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen how does that make you another child Martha failed?\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca looked directly at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause for the first eight months of my life, Martha intended to raise me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I did not understand.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened to your mother?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing. Anna was alive.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca\u2019s hands folded tightly together.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother became pregnant in 1967. She was nineteen. The father disappeared before she knew she was expecting.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn remained silent.<\/p>\n
Rebecca continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnna\u2019s parents were strict. Reputation mattered more to them than almost anything. They sent her to stay with relatives outside Richmond until I was born.\u201d<\/p>\n
I thought of the photograph.<\/p>\n
Martha smiling beside Anna.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did Martha have to do with it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was twenty-six. Newly married. She and Henry couldn\u2019t have children.\u201d<\/p>\n
Something shifted into place.<\/p>\n
Arthur.<\/p>\n
I said, \u201cBut Arthur\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWas adopted.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cMartha never told me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cArthur knows.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes he?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. According to Evelyn.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cMartha and Henry adopted Arthur when he was seven months old.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca took a breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cBefore that happened, Anna asked Martha to take me.\u201d<\/p>\n
The kitchen seemed to contract around us.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe wanted Martha to adopt you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Martha agreed?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAt first.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca looked at the photograph again.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother\u2019s letters say Martha was thrilled. She bought baby clothes. Henry built a crib. They started paperwork.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat changed?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy grandparents.\u201d<\/p>\n
The answer came quickly.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnna\u2019s parents decided adoption would create too many questions inside the family. They convinced her to keep me, then spent the rest of her life reminding her what a disgrace I had been.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt anger rise toward two people long dead.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo Martha didn\u2019t abandon you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca\u2019s expression hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat depends on when you start counting.\u201d<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother kept me. Martha stayed close for several years. Then something happened.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnna asked for money.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn looked toward Rebecca, but she continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother struggled. She worked nights. My grandparents helped only when it gave them leverage. Martha and Henry had begun doing well. Anna asked Martha for a loan.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow much?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA few hundred dollars. A lot then, but not impossible.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Martha refused?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca gave a humorless smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe agreed. Then Henry found out Anna had asked several relatives too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWas she in trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. But not the kind they thought.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat kind?\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca\u2019s fingers pressed into the photograph.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother was trying to leave a man who hit her.\u201d<\/p>\n
I closed my eyes briefly.<\/p>\n
\u201cMartha knew?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot at first.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did she think?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat Anna was irresponsible. That she was always in some crisis. That helping her was making things worse.\u201d<\/p>\n
The pattern was becoming painfully familiar.<\/p>\n
People calling control concern.<\/p>\n
People mistaking incomplete information for certainty.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMartha told Anna she wouldn\u2019t send more money unless Anna explained what was really going on.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Anna?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was ashamed.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo she stopped asking.\u201d<\/p>\n
The refrigerator hummed behind us.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe man hurt her badly a few months later. We left in the middle of the night. My mother moved us to Ohio.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid Martha know?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEventually.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid she contact her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe wrote.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca tapped the edge of the photograph.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother wrote back once.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did she say?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat Martha had made her choice.\u201d<\/p>\n
I understood then.<\/p>\n
The two women had built the next fifty years around one wounded sentence.<\/p>\n
\u201cMartha kept writing?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor a while.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd your mother?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStopped answering.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca opened her handbag.<\/p>\n
She pulled out a bundle tied with faded blue ribbon.<\/p>\n
Letters.<\/p>\n
Dozens.<\/p>\n
\u201cMartha wrote every birthday until I turned eighteen.\u201d<\/p>\n
My chest tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cTo you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMostly to my mother. Asking about me. Sending money sometimes. My mother returned some. Kept others unopened.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you know?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause Anna never told me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca\u2019s voice broke slightly for the first time.<\/p>\n
\u201cI found them after she died.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at Evelyn.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow did Martha learn Rebecca found them?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca answered instead.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe never did.\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence settled over the table.<\/p>\n
Martha had died believing the separation still stood.<\/p>\n
Rebecca stared toward the window.<\/p>\n
\u201cI found Martha\u2019s address in the box. I searched for her online.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her mouth tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s how I found the obituary.\u201d<\/p>\n
The cruelty of the timing made me wince.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTwo days after the funeral.\u201d<\/p>\n
She gave a short laugh with no amusement.<\/p>\n
\u201cI spent fifty-eight years not knowing someone had wanted me, and I learned it two days too late.\u201d<\/p>\n
I reached across the table, then stopped.<\/p>\n
Martha had taught me something about helping.<\/p>\n
Offer.<\/p>\n
Do not seize.<\/p>\n
Rebecca noticed my hand.<\/p>\n
After a moment, she placed hers on the table beside it.<\/p>\n
Not touching.<\/p>\n
Close.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did Martha mean when she said she failed you?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Rebecca looked at Evelyn.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s why I\u2019m here.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn opened her case again.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is where Martha\u2019s own account becomes important.\u201d<\/p>\n
She removed another document.<\/p>\n
The handwriting was Martha\u2019s.<\/p>\n
Rebecca stared at it.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA statement Martha prepared last year.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor whom?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca went still.<\/p>\n
Evelyn slid it across the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe instructed me to locate you after her death.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca did not touch the pages.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou already knew about me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMartha hired me partly to find you.\u201d<\/p>\n
The color drained from Rebecca\u2019s face.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEleven months ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou found me?\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn\u2019s silence answered.<\/p>\n
Rebecca pushed back from the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew where I was?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Martha knew?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca stood so quickly the chair legs scraped the floor.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why didn\u2019t she call me?\u201d<\/p>\n
I saw Evelyn struggle with the answer.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause when we located you, Martha was already ill.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat doesn\u2019t explain it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was afraid.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca laughed sharply.<\/p>\n
\u201cAfraid of what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat you would come out of obligation.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca stared at her.<\/p>\n
Evelyn continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe believed she had no right to arrive at the end of her life and force you into forgiveness simply because time was running out.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca\u2019s eyes filled.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo she did nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe wrote.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is not the same thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe knew where I lived.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe knew I had children?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy grandchildren?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca pressed one hand to her forehead.<\/p>\n
\u201cAll those years.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cRebecca\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe could have called.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOnce.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI would have answered.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her voice collapsed on the last word.<\/p>\n
Nobody tried to contradict her grief.<\/p>\n
After a long silence, she returned to the chair.<\/p>\n
She reached for Martha\u2019s statement.<\/p>\n
Her hands shook as she unfolded it.<\/p>\n
She read privately.<\/p>\n
Halfway down the first page, she covered her mouth.<\/p>\n
At the bottom, she whispered, \u201cOh, Martha.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat does it say?\u201d I asked gently.<\/p>\n
Rebecca looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe says she was wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n
A tear moved down her cheek.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe says she spent years telling herself she was respecting my mother\u2019s wishes when really she was protecting herself from being rejected.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked toward Martha\u2019s empty chair.<\/p>\n
That sounded like her too.<\/p>\n
Rebecca continued reading.<\/p>\n
Then she stopped.<\/p>\n
Her expression sharpened.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn already seemed to know which line she had reached.<\/p>\n
Rebecca looked up.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe left me something.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn\u2019s gaze shifted toward the ceiling.<\/p>\n
\u201cHalf of the property.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe house?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca turned toward me.<\/p>\n
Evelyn explained.<\/p>\n
\u201cMartha owned more than this house. The vacant parcel behind it, extending to the next street, is a separate property.\u201d<\/p>\n
I had always assumed the overgrown field belonged to the county.<\/p>\n
\u201cMartha owned that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor thirty-seven years.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHenry bought it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca\u2019s fingers tightened around the statement.<\/p>\n
Evelyn continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cMartha left that parcel jointly to Rebecca and a second beneficiary.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n
Before Evelyn could answer, headlights crossed the front windows.<\/p>\n
A car door slammed outside.<\/p>\n
Then another.<\/p>\n
I looked through the kitchen window.<\/p>\n
Arthur was walking up the path.<\/p>\n
Rebecca followed my gaze.<\/p>\n
Her face went pale.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s him?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Arthur reached the porch.<\/p>\n
He saw Rebecca through the glass.<\/p>\n
Stopped.<\/p>\n
For several seconds, neither moved.<\/p>\n
Then Arthur knocked.<\/p>\n
Rebecca whispered, \u201cDoes he know who I am?\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn rose.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe knows there was someone Martha wanted him to meet.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not what I asked.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Evelyn said. \u201cHe does not know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Arthur knocked again.<\/p>\n
Rebecca stared at the door.<\/p>\n
Then at Martha\u2019s statement.<\/p>\n
And for the second time in two weeks, I understood that Martha had arranged for the living to finish a conversation she no longer could.<\/p>\n
Evelyn did not move toward the door immediately. That hesitation frightened me more than the woman outside. Until then, Evelyn Roth had seemed incapable of uncertainty. She handled grief, accusation, … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":31637,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-31642","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-insightdrama"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31642","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=31642"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31642\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":31677,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31642\/revisions\/31677"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/31637"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=31642"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=31642"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=31642"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}