I drove home with Sarah\u2019s unopened letter pressed against my ribs inside my coat.<\/p>\n
Leo sat in the back seat talking about baseball. He had practice on Tuesday, and Coach Martin thought he might move him higher in the batting order. Usually I would have asked questions. Instead, every few seconds I checked the rearview mirror.<\/p>\n
A dark sedan turned off after two blocks.<\/p>\n
A pickup stayed behind us until the grocery store.<\/p>\n
No black SUV appeared.<\/p>\n
I told myself Evelyn had frightened me into seeing danger where there was none.<\/p>\n
Then Leo caught me looking in the mirror.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre we being followed?\u201d<\/p>\n
My hands tightened on the steering wheel.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would you ask that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou keep checking.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHabit.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t usually do it that much.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ten years old, and already too observant.<\/p>\n
I smiled at him through the mirror.<\/p>\n
\u201cEverything\u2019s fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
He studied me for another second.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs this about that lady?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEvelyn?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat about her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe made you mad.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was surprised.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not the same.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sarah had been exactly like this. Give her an incomplete answer and she would circle it until she found the missing piece.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe told me things about your mother I didn\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Leo looked out the window.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood things?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think so.\u201d<\/p>\n
That answer was honest enough to satisfy him.<\/p>\n
For the moment.<\/p>\n
At home he went upstairs to change out of his cemetery clothes. I remained in the kitchen and removed Sarah\u2019s envelope.<\/p>\n
The paper was worn at the folds, as if it had been handled many times.<\/p>\n
I put it on the table where Sarah had eaten breakfast nearly every morning of her childhood.<\/p>\n
For several minutes, I could not open it.<\/p>\n
There is a peculiar cruelty in receiving words from someone who can no longer answer questions about them. Whatever Sarah had written was fixed. I could argue, apologize, plead or forgive, and she would remain silent.<\/p>\n
I finally slid my finger beneath the flap.<\/p>\n
A photograph fell onto the table.<\/p>\n
Sarah stood outside a brick building, visibly pregnant beneath a gray sweater. Beside her was a young man with dark hair.<\/p>\n
His hand rested carefully at the small of her back.<\/p>\n
Neither was looking at the camera.<\/p>\n
They were looking at each other.<\/p>\n
Sarah was laughing.<\/p>\n
I had forgotten that particular laugh.<\/p>\n
After the pregnancy began, I mostly remembered the strained version of my daughter\u2014the defensive set of her jaw, her bedroom door closing, the nights when I heard her crying and waited too long before knocking.<\/p>\n
The girl in the photograph looked happy.<\/p>\n
The young man wore a small silver pendant.<\/p>\n
One letter was engraved on its face.<\/p>\n
W.<\/p>\n
Whitmore.<\/p>\n
I turned the photograph over.<\/p>\n
Sarah had written a date.<\/p>\n
Below it were three words.<\/p>\n
The day before.<\/p>\n
Before what, I didn\u2019t know.<\/p>\n
My hands were shaking when I unfolded the letter.<\/p>\n
Sarah began by telling me she was sorry.<\/p>\n
Not for being pregnant.<\/p>\n
Not for refusing to identify Leo\u2019s father.<\/p>\n
She was sorry because she knew I would eventually interpret her secrecy as proof that she had stopped trusting me.<\/p>\n
I stopped reading.<\/p>\n
There had been nights when I had thought exactly that.<\/p>\n
I had raised Sarah alone after her own father died when she was thirteen. We had survived the ugliest years together. I believed that gave me a permanent right to know what frightened her.<\/p>\n
When she became pregnant and refused to name the father, I took it personally.<\/p>\n
I pushed.<\/p>\n
She withdrew.<\/p>\n
I pushed harder.<\/p>\n
Now, in her handwriting, Sarah explained that she had trusted me too much to tell me.<\/p>\n
She knew what I would do.<\/p>\n
I would find him.<\/p>\n
And finding him would lead his family to her baby.<\/p>\n
The sentence made no sense until I continued.<\/p>\n
His name was Daniel Whitmore.<\/p>\n
He had been twenty-one when Sarah was eighteen.<\/p>\n
He came from a family with money Sarah described as \u201cthe kind that makes people stop asking questions.\u201d<\/p>\n
Daniel\u2019s father controlled medical businesses and investment companies. He had plans for his son, and those plans did not include an eighteen-year-old pregnant girl.<\/p>\n
Sarah wrote that Daniel had tried to leave the family.<\/p>\n
His father responded by threatening her.<\/p>\n
Not with violence, at least not openly.<\/p>\n
With power.<\/p>\n
He could ruin her education. He could manufacture accusations. He could make employers afraid to hire her. He could turn one frightened teenager into a liar before she had the resources to defend herself.<\/p>\n
I lowered the letter.<\/p>\n
A memory returned.<\/p>\n
Sarah standing in the kitchen late one night, seven months pregnant.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, can I ask you something?\u201d<\/p>\n
I had been exhausted after work.<\/p>\n
Without turning around, I told her that if the question concerned the baby\u2019s father, I could not fight about it again.<\/p>\n
She had been quiet.<\/p>\n
Then she said, \u201cNever mind.\u201d<\/p>\n
For ten years I remembered that moment as Sarah shutting me out.<\/p>\n
Now I saw something else.<\/p>\n
She had come to me.<\/p>\n
I had failed to turn around.<\/p>\n
I pressed my fingers against my eyes until colored lights moved behind them.<\/p>\n
When I resumed reading, Sarah explained why Daniel had disappeared.<\/p>\n
His father had given him a choice between the family and Sarah.<\/p>\n
Daniel chose Sarah.<\/p>\n
That was when his father discovered she was pregnant.<\/p>\n
After that, the threats became more serious.<\/p>\n
Daniel left the country, believing distance might protect her while he found a way to break free financially.<\/p>\n
Sarah never stopped loving him.<\/p>\n
She also never stopped being afraid of his father.<\/p>\n
Then I reached a line written more heavily than the rest.<\/p>\n
If anything happens to me, protect Leo.<\/p>\n
I read it twice.<\/p>\n
Sarah had known her pregnancy was medically complicated. I remembered that much. The doctors had warned us that delivery carried risks.<\/p>\n
But her next paragraph had nothing to do with medicine.<\/p>\n
She had seen the same black vehicle outside her clinic twice.<\/p>\n
Someone had followed her from school.<\/p>\n
A man she did not know had photographed her in a parking lot.<\/p>\n
I stood so abruptly that the kitchen chair scraped backward.<\/p>\n
Through the window above the sink, our street looked ordinary.<\/p>\n
A bicycle lay in the neighbor\u2019s yard.<\/p>\n
Mrs. Henderson\u2019s curtains were open.<\/p>\n
No black SUV.<\/p>\n
Still, I closed the blind.<\/p>\n
\u201cGrandma?\u201d<\/p>\n
I jumped.<\/p>\n
Leo stood in the doorway.<\/p>\n
I folded the letter immediately.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked from me to the paper.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs that from Mom?\u201d<\/p>\n
There are moments when a lie forms before you decide to tell it.<\/p>\n
This was one.<\/p>\n
I could have said no.<\/p>\n
Instead, I looked at his face and remembered Sarah\u2019s warning that fear could make people choose for others.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Leo stopped moving.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe wrote you a letter?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBefore you were born.\u201d<\/p>\n
His eyes widened.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy did that woman have it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m still figuring that out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCan I read it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot yet.\u201d<\/p>\n
The hurt came immediately.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause some of it concerns adults who were making decisions before you were born.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s always what people say when they don\u2019t want kids knowing stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I crossed the kitchen.<\/p>\n
\u201cLeo, I promise you this: when I understand what happened, I will tell you what you have a right to know.\u201d<\/p>\n
He searched my face.<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes it say who my dad is?\u201d<\/p>\n
There it was.<\/p>\n
The question I had dreaded since leaving the cemetery.<\/p>\n
I could not tell him I didn\u2019t know anymore.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
He inhaled sharply.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know his name?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs he dead?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Leo\u2019s face went utterly still.<\/p>\n
Children sometimes absorb enormous information without giving adults the emotional performance we expect.<\/p>\n
He simply pulled out a chair and sat.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s alive.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know yet.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes he know about me?\u201d<\/p>\n
I chose every word carefully.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe knew your mother was expecting a baby.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not what I asked.\u201d<\/p>\n
No, it wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve been told he believes the baby died.\u201d<\/p>\n
Leo stared at the tabletop.<\/p>\n
After a while he said, \u201cThat\u2019s stupid.\u201d<\/p>\n
I almost laughed from sheer tension.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow could somebody think their kid died for ten years?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid Mom tell him?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know exactly what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at me sharply.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said you\u2019d tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI said I\u2019d tell you when I understood.\u201d<\/p>\n
His chair pushed backward.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo you know who he is now, but I\u2019m still not allowed to.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLeo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s my dad.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, you don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
He went upstairs.<\/p>\n
His bedroom door closed.<\/p>\n
Not slammed.<\/p>\n
That was worse.<\/p>\n
I remained in the kitchen listening to the silence.<\/p>\n
At seven, Evelyn arrived.<\/p>\n
I opened the door before she could knock twice.<\/p>\n
She noticed my expression.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou told him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEnough for him to know I\u2019m keeping something from him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSarah wanted\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo not use Sarah to end this conversation.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn stopped.<\/p>\n
I let her inside.<\/p>\n
We sat at the kitchen table with coffee neither of us touched.<\/p>\n
I placed the photograph between us.<\/p>\n
\u201cDaniel?\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew him?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot well.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen start with what you did know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn folded her hands.<\/p>\n
She told me she had been one of the nurses caring for Sarah during the final stage of her pregnancy and again when she went into labor.<\/p>\n
Sarah had been frightened enough to confide in her.<\/p>\n
Not because they were close friends.<\/p>\n
Because Evelyn was available.<\/p>\n
That fact hurt.<\/p>\n
My daughter had needed an adult who would listen without immediately trying to solve her.<\/p>\n
Evelyn had been there when I had not.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid Daniel come to the hospital?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhile Sarah was in labor.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI never saw him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSarah had instructed staff not to let him reach her room.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause his father had people watching him.\u201d<\/p>\n
I leaned back.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis sounds insane.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou expect me to believe a wealthy businessman was monitoring an eighteen-year-old pregnant girl?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI expect you to believe Sarah believed it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s different.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you believe her?\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn looked toward the covered kitchen window.<\/p>\n
\u201cI do now.\u201d<\/p>\n
A cold sensation moved along my arms.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I saw the SUV today.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou recognized it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot the vehicle itself. The behavior.\u201d<\/p>\n
She explained that during Sarah\u2019s final weeks, a black vehicle had appeared outside the clinic repeatedly. Sarah noticed first. Evelyn dismissed it as coincidence until she saw the same man twice inside the hospital lobby.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI never learned his name.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid Sarah?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe believed he worked for Daniel\u2019s father.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Daniel?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe knew his father was interfering. I don\u2019t think he understood how far it had gone.\u201d<\/p>\n
I pushed the photograph toward her.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy did Daniel believe Leo died?\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn was silent.<\/p>\n
\u201cTell me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause he was given records saying the baby did not survive.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBy whom?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHis father.\u201d<\/p>\n
The room seemed suddenly too small.<\/p>\n
\u201cFake hospital records?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow do you know?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I saw copies later.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLater when?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAfter Sarah died.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew all this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot all at once.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you still waited ten years.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her face tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cI kept telling myself I was honoring Sarah\u2019s wishes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWere you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
The answer surprised me.<\/p>\n
Evelyn looked down at her hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cAt first, perhaps. After a while, I was protecting myself from admitting I had waited too long.\u201d<\/p>\n
I said nothing.<\/p>\n
\u201cI should have come sooner.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry doesn\u2019t give Leo ten years with his father.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt doesn\u2019t give Sarah anything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her willingness to accept my anger left me nowhere to put it.<\/p>\n
So I sat again.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is Daniel?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEurope.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe lived in Portugal for several years.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDoing what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe became a doctor.\u201d<\/p>\n
That surprised me.<\/p>\n
\u201cHis father owned medical facilities.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, but Daniel refused the business side. Medicine was his choice.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes he have a family?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo wife that I know of. No children.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t he come back?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe did.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stopped.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor Sarah\u2019s funeral.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at Evelyn.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re mistaken.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was at the cemetery all day.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo was he.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach turned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAcross the road.\u201d<\/p>\n
I saw the funeral again: rain threatening but never falling, umbrellas tucked beneath arms, people carrying casseroles back to cars because grief makes everyone bring food.<\/p>\n
Somewhere beyond those faces, Leo\u2019s father had been watching.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t he approach me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe tried afterward.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHis father intercepted him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know every detail. Daniel disappeared soon after.\u201d<\/p>\n
I rubbed my forehead.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said someone else knows Leo survived.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn went pale.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI received a call three days ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFrom whom?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo one spoke.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat proves nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAfter the call, a photograph was pushed through my mail slot.\u201d<\/p>\n
She opened her purse and removed a plastic sleeve.<\/p>\n
Inside was a photograph of Leo.<\/p>\n
My grandson was leaving school.<\/p>\n
The image had been taken from across the street.<\/p>\n
I could see his backpack. His blue jacket. The baseball cap he had lost last month.<\/p>\n
On the back, someone had written a date.<\/p>\n
Six weeks earlier.<\/p>\n
My throat closed.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019ve known for six weeks?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAt least.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you call the police?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI did. They said the photograph itself wasn\u2019t proof of a crime.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you call me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was trying to determine who sent it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were still deciding for me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
I shoved back from the table.<\/p>\n
That was when headlights swept across the kitchen ceiling.<\/p>\n
Evelyn turned toward the window.<\/p>\n
I moved to the blind and opened it by half an inch.<\/p>\n
A black SUV had stopped across the street.<\/p>\n
No headlights.<\/p>\n
Engine running.<\/p>\n
I could make out a shape behind the windshield.<\/p>\n
My phone vibrated on the counter.<\/p>\n
Unknown number.<\/p>\n
The first message contained only one sentence.<\/p>\n
You should have left Sarah\u2019s letter unopened.<\/p>\n
I stared at it.<\/p>\n
A second arrived.<\/p>\n
Leave Daniel Whitmore alone.<\/p>\n
My fingers went cold.<\/p>\n
Then a third.<\/p>\n
Do not tell the boy who his father is.<\/p>\n
Behind me, the staircase creaked.<\/p>\n
I turned.<\/p>\n
Leo stood halfway down.<\/p>\n
His face told me he had heard enough.<\/p>\n
\u201cDaniel,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t speak.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s his name, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n
The phone vibrated again.<\/p>\n
This time there was a photograph attached.<\/p>\n
Leo walking home from school two days earlier.<\/p>\n
Beneath it was a short message.<\/p>\n
He has Sarah\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n
Evelyn made a sound beside me.<\/p>\n
I looked from the photograph to my grandson standing barefoot on the stairs.<\/p>\n
For ten years I had thought the greatest danger in Leo\u2019s life was growing up without answers.<\/p>\n
I understood then that the unanswered questions had been hiding something far worse.<\/p>\n
Someone knew exactly who he was.<\/p>\n
Someone had been watching him.<\/p>\n
And whoever had protected Daniel Whitmore\u2019s secret for ten years had just discovered that Sarah\u2019s son was alive.<\/p>\n
I drove home with Sarah\u2019s unopened letter pressed against my ribs inside my coat. Leo sat in the back seat talking about baseball. He had practice on Tuesday, and Coach … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":32275,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-32277","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\/32277","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=32277"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32277\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":32312,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32277\/revisions\/32312"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/32275"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=32277"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=32277"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=32277"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}