![\"\"](\"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/1778317079-300x167.png\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
I walked past her, dropped the trash in the bin, and smelled cigarette smoke in the garage. Paige didn\u2019t smoke. Neither did I.<\/p>\n
Sterling did, apparently. I had noticed the silver case on his table at Bastion\u2019s.<\/p>\n
The next morning, Vivian sent Boone a secure link. Boone called me and told me to come in alone.<\/p>\n
His conference room had no windows. Just a long table, a pitcher of water, and a screen on the wall.<\/p>\n
Vivian was already there.<\/p>\n
She had a folder in front of her and a look on her face I did not like.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe confirmed Mercer Advisory LLC,\u201d she said. \u201cIt isn\u2019t a real business in any practical sense.\u201d<\/p>\n
Boone\u2019s jaw tightened.<\/p>\n
Vivian slid a bank statement across the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour wife has a personal account at Virginia National Bank under her maiden name. Deposits began fourteen months ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked down.<\/p>\n
The balance was $211,847.33.<\/p>\n
For a second, I couldn\u2019t read the numbers. They moved around on the page like insects.<\/p>\n
Vivian\u2019s voice came from very far away.<\/p>\n
\u201cSterling Mercer has been paying your wife fifteen thousand dollars a month.\u201d<\/p>\n
My first thought was not divorce. It was not revenge.<\/p>\n
It was: What had Paige been selling that was worth that much?<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I sat in Boone\u2019s conference room with both hands flat on the table.<\/p>\n
That was something my mother had taught me when I was a kid and my temper got hot. Put your hands somewhere solid. Let the table carry what you can\u2019t.<\/p>\n
The bank statement lay between us.<\/p>\n
Fifteen thousand dollars a month.<\/p>\n
Fourteen months.<\/p>\n
More money than Paige and I had ever managed to save together in ten years of marriage, sitting in an account with her maiden name on it like our life had been a temporary inconvenience.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs this legal?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Boone exhaled through his nose.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe payments themselves may be dressed up as consulting fees. Whether that holds is another question. But from your perspective, the issue is concealment of marital assets. In Virginia, that money is part of the marital estate unless she proves otherwise.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vivian opened her folder.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s more.\u201d<\/p>\n
I almost told her to stop. Not because I didn\u2019t want to know, but because every new fact was another nail, and I could already feel the lid closing over the marriage.<\/p>\n
She placed photographs on the table.<\/p>\n
Paige and Sterling entering the Jefferson Hotel.<\/p>\n
Paige leaving his office through a side exit.<\/p>\n
Paige sitting in Sterling\u2019s car in a parking garage, her hand on his cheek.<\/p>\n
I made myself look at each one. Not quickly. Not like a man flinching. I looked because this was my life now, and if my life had become evidence, then I needed to know the evidence.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe affair began around January 2023,\u201d Vivian said. \u201cAt least that\u2019s when we can document the pattern.\u201d<\/p>\n
January 2023.<\/p>\n
I thought back.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
That was when Paige started going to \u201cWednesday strategy dinners.\u201d That was when she changed her phone passcode. That was when she bought new perfume and said the old one gave her headaches. That was when I asked if we were okay and she told me I was being insecure.<\/p>\n
A man can survive a lie.<\/p>\n
What hollows him out is remembering all the times he apologized for noticing it.<\/p>\n
Boone clicked a remote. A screenshot appeared on the screen. It was a text exchange pulled from Sterling\u2019s side through Marguerite\u2019s case.<\/p>\n
Paige: He\u2019s too trusting. That\u2019s the problem.<\/p>\n
Sterling: Trusting husbands are useful husbands.<\/p>\n
Paige: Don\u2019t be cruel.<\/p>\n
Sterling: I\u2019m being accurate.<\/p>\n
The room went cold.<\/p>\n
I heard my own breathing.<\/p>\n
Boone looked at me carefully.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you need a minute?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
But I did.<\/p>\n
Vivian changed the screen.<\/p>\n
Another exchange.<\/p>\n
Sterling: Once the account hits 250, you can make your move.<\/p>\n
Paige: And if he fights custody?<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Sterling: Then you show the lawyer what we discussed. Contractors always have cash irregularities somewhere.<\/p>\n
My mouth went dry.<\/p>\n
\u201cSable Electric is clean,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Boone\u2019s voice sharpened. \u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI pay taxes. Payroll. Insurance. Everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know, Aldric.\u201d<\/p>\n
The next image was a draft document. Not filed, but prepared. Notes for a potential custody petition. Phrases jumped out at me.<\/p>\n
Unpredictable temper.<\/p>\n
Physically intimidating.<\/p>\n
Possible financial misconduct through business.<\/p>\n
No specific incidents. No dates. Just fog arranged to look like weather.<\/p>\n
I pushed back from the table.<\/p>\n
That was the core of it.<\/p>\n
Not the kiss. Not the hotel. Not even the money.<\/p>\n
Paige had not only betrayed me. She had been preparing to make me look dangerous enough to take my children.<\/p>\n
For the first time since Bastion\u2019s, tears came to my eyes. I wiped them fast, angry that my body had chosen that moment to break.<\/p>\n
Vivian\u2019s voice softened by half an inch.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s why I stopped you in the restaurant.\u201d<\/p>\n
Boone nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you had made a scene, if you had touched Sterling, if witnesses said you shouted or threatened them, that draft would have become a weapon.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at the words physically intimidating until they blurred.<\/p>\n
All those years of keeping my voice level around the kids. Walking away from arguments before they got ugly. Teaching Ryland that strength meant control. And Paige had been ready to use the size of my hands, the roughness of my work, the fact that I could carry a water heater by myself, and turn it into a story about fear.<\/p>\n
Boone closed the file.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe file first,\u201d he said. \u201cFault-based divorce. Emergency motion to preserve assets. Custody petition. We do it before she knows how much we know.\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
My sadness had burned down into something clean and hard.<\/p>\n
That evening, when Paige asked why I was quiet, I said my head hurt.<\/p>\n
It wasn\u2019t a lie.<\/p>\n
By then, everything in my life hurt, and the only thing keeping me upright was the terrible knowledge that I had almost given her exactly what she needed.<\/p>\n
Paige was served at Mercer Gains Capital on April 3, 2024.<\/p>\n
I did not see it happen, but Boone\u2019s process server wrote a clean little report with the kind of dry language that makes emotional destruction sound like package delivery.<\/p>\n
Subject accepted documents at 10:17 a.m. in reception area. Subject became visibly upset. Male later identified as Sterling Mercer exited office and approached. Service completed.<\/p>\n
That was all.<\/p>\n
At 5:46 p.m., Paige came home.<\/p>\n
I was at the kitchen table with a glass of water and one lamp on over the sink. The kids were in the living room watching a movie. I had chosen one with songs because music covers more than people realize.<\/p>\n
Paige opened the door slowly.<\/p>\n
Her face was swollen from crying, but she was dressed perfectly. Navy skirt. White blouse. Hair smoothed back. The costume of a woman hoping appearance could argue on her behalf.<\/p>\n
\u201cAldric,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n
She set her purse down like it might explode.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know what it is.\u201d<\/p>\n
She walked toward the table, papers trembling in her hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cA divorce complaint? Custody? Asset freeze? Are you insane?\u201d<\/p>\n
There it was again. The word she wanted attached to me.<\/p>\n
I kept my voice quiet.<\/p>\n
\u201cCareful.\u201d<\/p>\n
She stopped.<\/p>\n
\u201cCareful?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. Choose your words carefully.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes searched my face.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow much do you know?\u201d<\/p>\n
That was the first honest sentence she had said to me in months.<\/p>\n
\u201cEnough.\u201d<\/p>\n
She sat down across from me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWas it Vivian Hale?\u201d<\/p>\n
I said nothing.<\/p>\n
Her mouth tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cSterling said Marguerite had someone watching him, but he said she was sloppy. He said she wouldn\u2019t get anything usable.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSterling says a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n
Paige flinched at the sound of his name.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt started as friendship,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
I almost laughed.<\/p>\n
Instead, I drank water.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe listened to me. You were always tired. Always working. Always talking about invoices and permits and which apprentice forgot which tool. I felt invisible.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were wearing the dress I bought you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes filled.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou sent me hearts from the table.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAldric, please.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were planning to take the kids.\u201d<\/p>\n
She froze.<\/p>\n
That hit deeper than the affair. I saw it in her face. Her grief vanished, replaced by calculation.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe draft custody petition. The notes about my temper. The suggestion that my business had irregularities.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked toward the living room, then back at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou went through my things?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. Your boyfriend was careless.\u201d<\/p>\n
That landed too.<\/p>\n
For a second, the room belonged to silence.<\/p>\n
Then Paige started crying. Not the shocked crying from being caught. Something more desperate.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was scared,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. Of being stuck. Of waking up at fifty and realizing I never had a life.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe had children.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, you don\u2019t. People who know don\u2019t build escape plans that run over their own kids.\u201d<\/p>\n
She covered her face.<\/p>\n
\u201cI never would\u2019ve kept them from you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou just needed paperwork saying I was unstable.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was confused.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were funded.\u201d<\/p>\n
The word shut her down.<\/p>\n
Her hands dropped.<\/p>\n
\u201cSterling told me the money was protection.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFrom what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFrom making a mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cProtection from consequences.\u201d<\/p>\n
She leaned forward.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll end it. Tonight. I\u2019ll give back the money. We can go to counseling. We can tell the lawyers to stop.\u201d<\/p>\n
For one strange second, I saw the woman from the barbecue in the Fan. Sandals sinking into grass. A laugh full of sunlight. My body remembered loving her before my mind could stop it.<\/p>\n
That was the worst part. Betrayal doesn\u2019t erase love immediately. It leaves love standing in the room with nowhere to go.<\/p>\n
Then Odette called from the living room, \u201cDaddy, the princess is singing again!\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked toward my daughter\u2019s voice.<\/p>\n
When I looked back at Paige, whatever softness had risen in me was gone.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo counseling,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Her face crumpled.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo second chance?\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t make one mistake, Paige. You built a second life and sharpened it into a knife.\u201d<\/p>\n
She cried harder.<\/p>\n
I got up, walked to the doorway, and watched Ryland and Odette sitting shoulder to shoulder under a blanket.<\/p>\n
Behind me, Paige\u2019s phone buzzed on the table.<\/p>\n
Neither of us moved.<\/p>\n
The screen lit up.<\/p>\n
Sterling Mercer: Do not say anything to him. If he knows about the money, we have a different problem.<\/p>\n
Paige reached for the phone, but I was closer.<\/p>\n
I picked it up first, and the look on her face told me Sterling\u2019s \u201cdifferent problem\u201d had a name.<\/p>\n
Mine.<\/p>\n
I handed Paige\u2019s phone back without opening it.<\/p>\n
That may sound like restraint, but by then I had learned the difference between evidence and temptation. Boone had been clear. No snooping. No grabbing. No private detective work of my own. Let the professionals do professional things.<\/p>\n
Paige held the phone to her chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need to call him,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, you need to call your attorney.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019ll be worried.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was the wrong thing to say.<\/p>\n
I looked at her, and something in my expression made her step back.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour boyfriend is worried,\u201d I said, \u201cbecause the lie is losing shape.\u201d<\/p>\n
Paige left the house that night. She packed one small suitcase, cried outside Odette\u2019s bedroom door, and asked if she could kiss the kids while they slept.<\/p>\n
I said yes.<\/p>\n
I was not cruel. I was just finished.<\/p>\n
She stayed with a friend from work, or at least that was what she told me. Boone found out later she spent the first three nights at a corporate apartment Mercer Gains kept for visiting clients. Sterling\u2019s name wasn\u2019t on the lease. It didn\u2019t need to be. Men like him rarely leave fingerprints where signatures can do the hiding.<\/p>\n
Three days later, Sterling called me.<\/p>\n
I was in a crawl space under a duplex in Henrico, lying on my back with insulation dust in my hair and a flashlight between my teeth. My phone buzzed against my hip.<\/p>\n
Unknown number.<\/p>\n
I crawled out, stood in the yard, and answered.<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Sable,\u201d he said. \u201cThis is Sterling Mercer.\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice was smooth. Educated. The kind of voice that made insults sound like advice.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA conversation.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have my lawyer\u2019s number.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m hoping we can avoid unnecessary escalation.\u201d<\/p>\n
A robin landed on the chain-link fence beside me, cocked its head, and stared like it wanted to hear this too.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou slept with my wife for fourteen months,\u201d I said. \u201cYou paid her through a shell company. You helped her draft lies about me. Escalation already happened.\u201d<\/p>\n
A pause.<\/p>\n
Then he sighed.<\/p>\n
\u201cPaige is emotional. She may have mischaracterized certain discussions.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou mean the text messages?\u201d<\/p>\n
Another pause.<\/p>\n
So he didn\u2019t know how much we had.<\/p>\n
Good.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m prepared to make this easier,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFinancially.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked down at my boots. Mud clung to the soles.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re trying to buy me off?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m trying to spare two families reputational harm.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou mean yours.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEveryone\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n
He lowered his voice slightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cMen in your position sometimes think public humiliation is justice. It isn\u2019t. It\u2019s expensive. It\u2019s ugly. It affects children.\u201d<\/p>\n
The nerve of him saying children almost made me laugh.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy children are already affected.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen be practical.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere it is,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe word men like you use when you want other people to swallow poison quietly.\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice cooled.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou should consider your business, Mr. Sable. Contractors depend on trust. Rumors about tax handling, payroll practices, employee classification\u2014those things can create headaches even when unfounded.\u201d<\/p>\n
My hand went still around the phone.<\/p>\n
There it was. The threat. Wrapped in silk, but still a threat.<\/p>\n
I looked through the open window of my work van. On the dash, beside a coil of wire nuts, sat the small recorder Boone had told me to keep running anytime Sterling or Paige contacted me directly.<\/p>\n
It was running.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m going to hang up now,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cAldric\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll speak through counsel.\u201d<\/p>\n
I ended the call.<\/p>\n
That afternoon, Boone listened to the recording with no expression except one raised eyebrow.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell,\u201d he said. \u201cThat was generous of him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGenerous?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe just confirmed consciousness of wrongdoing and attempted intimidation.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vivian was on speaker.<\/p>\n
\u201cSterling gets careless when he thinks he\u2019s talking to someone beneath him,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
I hated how accurate that sounded.<\/p>\n
A week later, Marguerite Ryland\u2019s attorney filed to enforce the morality clause. Vivian\u2019s evidence package became the foundation of a five-million-dollar claim. The Richmond business community did not explode all at once. It did what old-money circles do. It whispered first.<\/p>\n
And whispers, when they are sharp enough, travel faster than sirens.<\/p>\n
Then Boone received Paige\u2019s formal response.<\/p>\n
She denied adultery.<\/p>\n
Denied hidden marital assets.<\/p>\n
Denied any plan to restrict my custody.<\/p>\n
And in the same filing, she described me as \u201cemotionally volatile and physically intimidating.\u201d<\/p>\n
I read that line in Boone\u2019s office while rain hit the window behind me.<\/p>\n
My hands were steady.<\/p>\n
That was when I understood the trial wasn\u2019t going to be about who Paige had become. It was going to be about who she could convince a judge I had always been.<\/p>\n
The custody evaluation began in late April.<\/p>\n
If you have never had strangers inspect your parenting while your marriage burns down in the background, let me tell you: it feels like someone walking through your house with a white glove while the roof is on fire.<\/p>\n
A woman named Dr. Lorraine Meeks came to observe me with the kids. She was polite, silver-haired, and carried a leather notebook she never seemed to stop writing in. She watched me make dinner, help Ryland with multiplication, and brush Odette\u2019s hair while Odette acted like the brush was a medieval torture device.<\/p>\n
\u201cOw, Daddy!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI haven\u2019t touched your head yet.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re thinking about touching it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Meeks smiled at that. I noticed. So did Paige\u2019s attorney later, judging by how hard he tried to make me sound like a barely contained animal.<\/p>\n
Paige had submitted examples of my alleged temper.<\/p>\n
One was from 2019, when I punched a garage wall.<\/p>\n
The actual story was that my mother had called to say my brother Knox had been in a motorcycle accident, and I had hit the wall once before driving to the hospital. Knox lived. My knuckle swelled. Paige had laughed about it for years, calling me dramatic.<\/p>\n
Now it was evidence.<\/p>\n
Another example was from 2021, when I yelled in the backyard.<\/p>\n
That actual story was that Ryland, then five, had run toward the street after a loose ball, and I yelled his name so hard the neighbor\u2019s dog started barking. Paige had cried afterward because it scared her. I apologized. Ryland never ran into the street again.<\/p>\n
Now it was evidence.<\/p>\n
This is what betrayal does when it gets legal. It goes backward through your life and steals innocent moments, dresses them in ugly clothes, and presents them to strangers.<\/p>\n
Boone dismantled each one.<\/p>\n
He had witnesses. My mother. Knox. The neighbor whose dog had barked. Even Ryland\u2019s kindergarten teacher, who wrote a letter saying I was the parent who handled pickups, meetings, permission slips, and the time Ryland threw up during a field trip and needed clean clothes.<\/p>\n
Paige\u2019s version of our family had perfume and lighting. Mine had receipts.<\/p>\n
One afternoon, Dr. Meeks interviewed Ryland separately. I hated it. I hated sitting in the waiting room while my son answered questions about a situation he should never have been forced to understand.<\/p>\n
When he came out, he looked smaller somehow.<\/p>\n
In the truck, he stared out the window.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, buddy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid I say something wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n
My throat tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. You told the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow do you know?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause that\u2019s what you do.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded, then wiped his nose with his sleeve.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom said sometimes people remember things different.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s true.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes.\u201d<\/p>\n
He turned toward me.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you remember our house happy?\u201d<\/p>\n
The question hit me harder than any filing.<\/p>\n
I pulled into a parking lot beside a closed pharmacy and put the truck in park.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d I said. \u201cI remember happy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why can\u2019t it be that again?\u201d<\/p>\n
There are lies you tell children because they are too young for the whole truth, and there are truths you soften because you still respect their right to childhood.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause some things break in ways you can\u2019t glue back,\u201d I said. \u201cBut broken doesn\u2019t mean over. It means we build different.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at his glove in his lap.<\/p>\n
\u201cDifferent bad?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDifferent honest.\u201d<\/p>\n
He thought about that for a long time.<\/p>\n
That evening, Vivian called. Her voice had that clipped quality I had come to recognize.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe found one more thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
I closed myself in the laundry room so the kids wouldn\u2019t hear.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPaige booked a consultation with a private school in Charlotte under Odette and Ryland\u2019s names.\u201d<\/p>\n
My grip tightened on the phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cCharlotte?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSterling has a condo there through an investment company. She visited it twice in February.\u201d<\/p>\n
For a moment, the laundry room seemed to shrink around me. Detergent, warm dryer air, the lonely sock basket. Ordinary things surrounding an extraordinary theft.<\/p>\n
Paige had not been preparing to negotiate.<\/p>\n
She had been preparing to leave the state with my children.<\/p>\n
And suddenly alternating weekends was no longer the thing I feared losing. I feared losing mornings, homework, baseball practice, hair brushing, bedtime, all the small daily pieces that make a parent a parent.<\/p>\n
I walked past her, dropped the trash in the bin, and smelled cigarette smoke in the garage. Paige didn\u2019t smoke. Neither did I. Sterling did, apparently. I had noticed the … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1893,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1,5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1894","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story","category-story-daily"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1894","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1894"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1894\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1897,"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1894\/revisions\/1897"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1893"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1894"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1894"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1894"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}