![\"May](\"https:\/\/scontent-xxc1-1.xx.fbcdn.net\/v\/t39.30808-6\/839671021_122124847461257929_4146602478177074074_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_tt6&cstp=mx526x526&ctp=s526x526&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=127cfc&_nc_ohc=nIOiqvXvvvwQ7kNvwG4kRrA&_nc_oc=AdrQI8dU6sSz1db9mT9NeUCRiWBdvGLpOJgJio9gsGCymFJKQSKa5vthrWJSD_s-BZQ&_nc_zt=23&_nc_ht=scontent-xxc1-1.xx&_nc_gid=W8duujYH235yMVLv4kP-iQ&_nc_ss=792a8&oh=00_AQO-4glM70cl7JZCuDVsgq8mFAVR_2SBtdebtdPejCUaOg&oe=6ACD4A9D\")
<\/p>\nI stepped backward. \u201cHow do you know my name?\u201d Silence. Then he answered. \u201cBecause Zachary told me about you.\u201d I almost laughed. It came out as something between a sob and a bitter breath. \u201cNo,\u201d I whispered. \u201cNot like this.\u201d \u201cLike what?\u201d I stared at the door. \u201cDon\u2019t pretend.\u201d Another silence. Then he said, \u201cYou recognized me.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
My fingers tightened around the key. There it was. The confirmation I had been dreading. I had recognized him. Not because I had seen him recently. Not because Zachary had shown me photographs. And certainly not because he resembled someone I knew. I recognized him because I had spent nineteen years trying to forget his face. A face I had last seen under a streetlamp on a rainy November night. A face belonging to a man who had stood beside an open car door while my younger sister screamed for help.<\/p>\n A face belonging to a man the police had never found.<\/p>\n But the man downstairs wasn\u2019t old enough to be him.<\/p>\n That was the impossible part.<\/p>\n The man I remembered should have been nearly forty now.<\/p>\n The young man downstairs looked barely twenty.<\/p>\n Yet the eyes were the same.<\/p>\n Exactly the same.<\/p>\n Cold gray eyes.<\/p>\n A tiny scar cutting through his left eyebrow.<\/p>\n And that strange habit of tilting his head slightly when he was lying.<\/p>\n I remembered all of it.<\/p>\n Every detail.<\/p>\n Because nineteen years ago, that face had been the last face my sister, Emily, ever saw.<\/p>\n I pressed my palm against the wall to steady myself.<\/p>\n \u201cTell me your real name,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n He didn\u2019t answer immediately.<\/p>\n Finally, he said, \u201cYou already know it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou do.\u201d<\/p>\n I heard him move.<\/p>\n One step.<\/p>\n Then another.<\/p>\n He stopped directly behind the door.<\/p>\n \u201cMargaret,\u201d he said softly, \u201cyou\u2019ve been waiting for me for a very long time.\u201d<\/p>\n My blood ran cold.<\/p>\n I pulled my phone from my pocket.<\/p>\n The police were already on their way.<\/p>\n I had called them before locking the door, but I had barely managed to tell the dispatcher my address and that I needed officers immediately.<\/p>\n I hadn\u2019t told her everything.<\/p>\n I couldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n Not yet.<\/p>\n Because I wasn\u2019t even sure what I was looking at.<\/p>\n Then I heard footsteps above us.<\/p>\n \u201cMom?\u201d<\/p>\n Zachary.<\/p>\n My heart nearly stopped.<\/p>\n \u201cMom, where are you?\u201d<\/p>\n I looked toward the basement stairs.<\/p>\n \u201cStay upstairs!\u201d I shouted.<\/p>\n There was a pause.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJust stay there!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMom, what\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n I heard him coming down the stairs.<\/p>\n I hurried toward the staircase.<\/p>\n \u201cZachary, don\u2019t come down here.\u201d<\/p>\n He appeared at the bottom step.<\/p>\n His face had changed.<\/p>\n The happiness I\u2019d seen when he first brought his boyfriend home was gone.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did you do?\u201d<\/p>\n I stared at my son.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did I do?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou locked him down here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen explain it.\u201d<\/p>\n His voice cracked.<\/p>\n For the first time since he had come home from college, I saw the little boy I used to know.<\/p>\n The child who had once crawled into my bed during thunderstorms.<\/p>\n The boy who had cried when Emily died, even though he had been too young to understand why everyone else was crying.<\/p>\n \u201cZachary,\u201d I whispered, \u201cwhere did you meet him?\u201d<\/p>\n He looked away.<\/p>\n \u201cCollege.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s his real name?\u201d<\/p>\n He hesitated.<\/p>\n I knew then.<\/p>\n He knew.<\/p>\n Maybe not everything.<\/p>\n But enough.<\/p>\n \u201cZachary.\u201d<\/p>\n He looked at me.<\/p>\n \u201cHis name is Daniel.\u201d<\/p>\n The man behind the door suddenly laughed.<\/p>\n It was quiet.<\/p>\n Almost gentle.<\/p>\n My son flinched.<\/p>\n I looked at him.<\/p>\n \u201cDaniel what?\u201d<\/p>\n Zachary swallowed.<\/p>\n \u201cDaniel Carter.\u201d<\/p>\n My knees nearly gave out.<\/p>\n Carter.<\/p>\n That name had been buried in a police report nineteen years ago.<\/p>\n Daniel Carter.<\/p>\n The name of the man investigators believed had been responsible for Emily\u2019s disappearance.<\/p>\n The case had never been solved.<\/p>\n No body had ever been found.<\/p>\n No arrest had ever been made.<\/p>\n And because there had never been enough evidence, my parents had spent years being told that Emily might still be alive.<\/p>\n I had stopped believing that a long time ago.<\/p>\n But now the name had walked into my house wearing a college jacket and holding my son\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n I looked at Zachary.<\/p>\n \u201cDid you know?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cKnow what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho he was?\u201d<\/p>\n Zachary\u2019s eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n I believed him.<\/p>\n That was the terrible part.<\/p>\n I believed my son.<\/p>\n Before either of us could say another word, the basement door shook.<\/p>\n Not violently.<\/p>\n Just once.<\/p>\n A gentle pressure from the other side.<\/p>\n \u201cZachary,\u201d Daniel called.<\/p>\n My son looked toward the door.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t answer him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMom\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n Then Daniel said something that made every hair on my arms stand up.<\/p>\n \u201cAsk your mother what happened to Emily.\u201d<\/p>\n Zachary slowly turned toward me.<\/p>\n \u201cWho is Emily?\u201d<\/p>\n I couldn\u2019t breathe.<\/p>\n The sirens appeared in the distance.<\/p>\n Getting closer.<\/p>\n But Daniel continued speaking through the door.<\/p>\n \u201cYou should ask her why she never told you that your aunt didn\u2019t die.\u201d<\/p>\n Everything inside me stopped.<\/p>\n Zachary stared at me.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat does he mean?\u201d<\/p>\n I couldn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n Because nineteen years ago, I had told my son that his Aunt Emily was dead.<\/p>\n And I had believed it myself.<\/p>\n Until that moment.<\/p>\n The police arrived less than a minute later.<\/p>\n Two officers entered through the front door with their hands near their holsters.<\/p>\n I rushed toward them.<\/p>\n \u201cBasement,\u201d I said. \u201cHe\u2019s down there.\u201d<\/p>\n One officer nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cIs anyone else inside?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy son.\u201d<\/p>\n The officer looked at Zachary.<\/p>\n \u201cIs he armed?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs the man downstairs armed?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n They moved toward the stairs.<\/p>\n I followed.<\/p>\n When they unlocked the basement door, they ordered Daniel to put his hands where they could see them.<\/p>\n He stepped out slowly.<\/p>\n His face was calm.<\/p>\n Almost strangely peaceful.<\/p>\n One officer immediately handcuffed him.<\/p>\n Daniel didn\u2019t resist.<\/p>\n He looked directly at me.<\/p>\n And smiled.<\/p>\n Not triumphantly.<\/p>\n Sadly.<\/p>\n As though he was looking at someone who had finally understood something far too late.<\/p>\n Then he turned toward Zachary.<\/p>\n \u201cI told you she would recognize me.\u201d<\/p>\n Zachary looked at him in disbelief.<\/p>\n \u201cYou knew?\u201d<\/p>\n Daniel lowered his eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n The officer pulled him toward the stairs.<\/p>\n But before he disappeared from view, Daniel looked at me one final time.<\/p>\n \u201cMargaret,\u201d he said, \u201cyou locked the wrong person in that room.\u201d<\/p>\n Then he was gone.<\/p>\n I stood frozen beside my son.<\/p>\n And for the first time in nineteen years, I wondered whether the biggest lie of my life had been the one I had told myself.<\/p>\n Emily might not have been dead.<\/p>\n She might have been alive all this time.<\/p>\n And if she was\u2026<\/p>\n I suddenly understood why Daniel had come to my house.<\/p>\n He hadn\u2019t come to meet Zachary\u2019s mother.<\/p>\n He had come to find me.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n <\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n <\/p>\n The police took Daniel away that evening.<\/p>\n But they didn\u2019t take away the questions.<\/p>\n Those remained.<\/p>\n They filled every room in the house.<\/p>\n They followed me into the kitchen, where the pot roast sat untouched on the table.<\/p>\n They followed me into the living room, where Zachary sat staring at the floor.<\/p>\n And they followed me into the basement, where I stood alone after the officers had finished searching it.<\/p>\n There was nothing there.<\/p>\n No weapon.<\/p>\n No drugs.<\/p>\n No hidden photographs.<\/p>\n No evidence of anything criminal.<\/p>\n Only an old wooden cabinet, several boxes of Christmas decorations, and the dusty furniture I had been meaning to donate for years.<\/p>\n One of the officers had told me that Daniel had given them a name.<\/p>\n Emily.<\/p>\n He claimed he knew where she was.<\/p>\n But he refused to say anything else until he had spoken to a particular detective.<\/p>\n A detective who had worked on Emily\u2019s case nineteen years earlier.<\/p>\n I barely slept that night.<\/p>\n At two in the morning, I found Zachary sitting on the back porch.<\/p>\n He was still wearing the clothes he\u2019d worn to dinner.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t understand,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n I sat beside him.<\/p>\n \u201cYou deserve the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n He looked at me.<\/p>\n \u201cThen tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n For nineteen years, I had carried the story inside me.<\/p>\n I had told it so many times that it had become polished and simple.<\/p>\n Emily disappeared.<\/p>\n The police suspected Daniel Carter.<\/p>\n Daniel disappeared.<\/p>\n Emily was presumed dead.<\/p>\n That was the version I had given my parents.<\/p>\n The version I had given Zachary.<\/p>\n The version I had given myself.<\/p>\n But there had always been another version.<\/p>\n One I had been too ashamed to speak aloud.<\/p>\n \u201cI lied to the police,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n Zachary stared at me.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot about everything.\u201d<\/p>\n I swallowed.<\/p>\n \u201cThe night Emily disappeared, she called me.\u201d<\/p>\n I could still hear the phone ringing.<\/p>\n I could still remember standing in the kitchen, watching rain crawl down the windows.<\/p>\n Emily had sounded terrified.<\/p>\n She told me someone was following her.<\/p>\n She said she had discovered something.<\/p>\n Something about our father.<\/p>\n I had asked what she meant.<\/p>\n She wouldn\u2019t tell me over the phone.<\/p>\n She told me she was coming to my house.<\/p>\n But she never arrived.<\/p>\n An hour later, the police found her abandoned car.<\/p>\n The driver\u2019s door was open.<\/p>\n Her purse was inside.<\/p>\n Her phone was gone.<\/p>\n There were no signs of a struggle.<\/p>\n And Daniel Carter was seen nearby.<\/p>\n I had told the police everything I knew.<\/p>\n Everything except one thing.<\/p>\n Emily had asked me not to tell anyone that she was coming to see me.<\/p>\n I was afraid.<\/p>\n Afraid that if I admitted it, whoever was following her might come after me.<\/p>\n So I lied.<\/p>\n I told the police Emily had never called.<\/p>\n That lie haunted me.<\/p>\n But I thought it had only cost my sister\u2019s case.<\/p>\n I never imagined it would cost us nineteen years.<\/p>\n Zachary listened without interrupting.<\/p>\n When I finished, he whispered, \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause I wanted you to have a normal life.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou lied to me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou let me believe she was dead.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI thought she was.\u201d<\/p>\n His eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n \u201cSo did I.\u201d<\/p>\n The next morning, Detective Harris came to our house.<\/p>\n He was older now.<\/p>\n His hair had turned completely gray.<\/p>\n But I recognized him immediately.<\/p>\n He sat at our dining table with a folder in front of him.<\/p>\n \u201cI need to tell you something,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n I nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cDaniel Carter isn\u2019t Daniel Carter.\u201d<\/p>\n I stared at him.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe was born under another name.\u201d<\/p>\n He opened the folder.<\/p>\n Inside were photographs.<\/p>\n One showed Daniel as a child.<\/p>\n Another showed a teenage boy.<\/p>\n And another showed a young woman.<\/p>\n Emily.<\/p>\n My hands began shaking.<\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re related,\u201d Detective Harris said.<\/p>\n \u201cWho is he?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHer son.\u201d<\/p>\n The room seemed to tilt.<\/p>\n I stared at the photograph.<\/p>\n The young man\u2019s face was unmistakable.<\/p>\n The same eyes.<\/p>\n The same scar.<\/p>\n The same expression.<\/p>\n But suddenly everything made sense.<\/p>\n Daniel wasn\u2019t the man from nineteen years ago.<\/p>\n He was his son.<\/p>\n He had been a child when Emily disappeared.<\/p>\n My mind raced.<\/p>\n \u201cThen who was the man I saw?\u201d<\/p>\n Detective Harris leaned back.<\/p>\n \u201cWe found him.\u201d<\/p>\n I stopped breathing.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPrison.\u201d<\/p>\n The room went silent.<\/p>\n \u201cHe was arrested eight years ago under another name. DNA testing connected him to evidence from Emily\u2019s case.\u201d<\/p>\n My hands covered my mouth.<\/p>\n \u201cIs Emily alive?\u201d<\/p>\n Detective Harris didn\u2019t answer immediately.<\/p>\n That was when I knew.<\/p>\n There are some silences that speak louder than words.<\/p>\n \u201cShe was,\u201d he finally said.<\/p>\n My heart shattered.<\/p>\n \u201cWas?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe died three years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n For nineteen years, I had mourned a woman who had actually been alive.<\/p>\n For three years, she had been dead while I continued believing she had disappeared.<\/p>\n And I had never known.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe lived under another name in Oregon.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe was afraid.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf him?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n I began crying.<\/p>\n Not loudly.<\/p>\n Just tears sliding down my face.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat does Daniel want?\u201d<\/p>\n Detective Harris looked at me.<\/p>\n \u201cHe came because Emily left something for you.\u201d<\/p>\n He placed a small envelope on the table.<\/p>\n My name was written across the front.<\/p>\n In handwriting I hadn\u2019t seen in nineteen years.<\/p>\n Margaret.<\/p>\n My hands trembled so badly I could barely open it.<\/p>\n Inside was a single letter.<\/p>\n I read it slowly.<\/p>\n Emily had written that she was sorry.<\/p>\n She explained that she had discovered our father had been involved in a financial crime with several people, including the man who later became Daniel\u2019s father.<\/p>\n She had witnessed something she wasn\u2019t supposed to see.<\/p>\n She had tried to expose them.<\/p>\n That was why she disappeared.<\/p>\n But there was something else.<\/p>\n Something I never expected.<\/p>\n Emily had known about Zachary.<\/p>\n She had watched him from a distance.<\/p>\n She had received photographs of him over the years.<\/p>\n She knew what school he attended.<\/p>\n She knew when he graduated.<\/p>\n And she had one request.<\/p>\n She wanted me to tell Zachary that she had never forgotten him.<\/p>\n That broke me.<\/p>\n Because Zachary had been four years old when she disappeared.<\/p>\n He remembered almost nothing about her.<\/p>\n Yet she had remembered him every day.<\/p>\n At the bottom of the letter, she had written:<\/p>\n Margaret, don\u2019t blame yourself forever. You made a terrible choice because you were afraid. I understand now that fear can make good people do terrible things. But please don\u2019t let your fear become the only thing Zachary remembers about his family.<\/em><\/p>\n I couldn\u2019t read anymore.<\/p>\n I handed the letter to my son.<\/p>\n He read it silently.<\/p>\n When he finished, he was crying too.<\/p>\n For a long time, neither of us spoke.<\/p>\n Then Zachary looked at me.<\/p>\n \u201cMom?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid she love me?\u201d<\/p>\n I pulled him into my arms.<\/p>\n \u201cShe loved you enough to watch from a distance because she believed that was the only way to keep you safe.\u201d<\/p>\n He cried against my shoulder.<\/p>\n And I held him the way I had when he was a little boy.<\/p>\n Only now I understood something I hadn\u2019t understood nineteen years ago.<\/p>\n Sometimes protecting someone doesn\u2019t mean hiding the truth.<\/p>\n Sometimes hiding the truth is the thing that hurts them most.<\/p>\n Daniel eventually told the police everything.<\/p>\n He had tracked down his father\u2019s records and discovered what had happened to Emily.<\/p>\n He had spent years trying to find her.<\/p>\n By the time he finally located her, she was dying.<\/p>\n She gave him the letter and asked him to find Zachary.<\/p>\n But she had one condition.<\/p>\n He was never to tell Zachary who he really was until he had met me first.<\/p>\n She wanted to know whether I would recognize the past.<\/p>\n Whether I would finally confront what I had spent nineteen years running from.<\/p>\n That Sunday afternoon, when Zachary brought Daniel through my front door, I thought I was looking at the man who had taken my sister.<\/p>\n I thought I was seeing the face of my worst nightmare.<\/p>\n Instead, I was looking at the son of the woman I had spent nineteen years mourning.<\/p>\n And I had locked him in my basement.<\/p>\n When Daniel was released from police custody, he came back to our house.<\/p>\n This time, I opened the door myself.<\/p>\n He stood on the porch holding a small wooden box.<\/p>\n \u201cI should have told you everything,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d I answered.<\/p>\n \u201cI was afraid you would hate me.\u201d<\/p>\n I looked at him.<\/p>\n \u201cI hated the man I thought you were.\u201d<\/p>\n He lowered his eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n I took the box.<\/p>\n Inside was a photograph of Emily holding Zachary as a baby.<\/p>\n I had never seen it before.<\/p>\n I pressed my fingers against the photograph.<\/p>\n And for the first time in nineteen years, I allowed myself to remember my sister without the fear.<\/p>\n Without the unanswered questions.<\/p>\n Without the image of an abandoned car.<\/p>\n I remembered her laugh.<\/p>\n Her terrible singing.<\/p>\n The way she used to steal food from my plate.<\/p>\n The way she had held my newborn son.<\/p>\n And suddenly the mystery that had haunted our family for almost two decades felt different.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t gone.<\/p>\n Some wounds never disappear.<\/p>\n But they can finally stop bleeding.<\/p>\n I looked at Zachary.<\/p>\n Then at Daniel.<\/p>\n And finally at the photograph.<\/p>\n \u201cI spent nineteen years thinking I lost my sister,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n Daniel nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cBut I was wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n He looked at me.<\/p>\n \u201cYou found her?\u201d<\/p>\n I smiled through my tears.<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n I touched the photograph gently.<\/p>\n \u201cShe found her way home.\u201d<\/p>\n And that was the truth I had been too afraid to see.<\/p>\n The door had never really been the basement door.<\/p>\n It had been the door inside my own heart.<\/p>\n And for nineteen years, I had been the one keeping it locked.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I stepped backward. \u201cHow do you know my name?\u201d Silence. Then he answered. \u201cBecause Zachary told me about you.\u201d I almost laughed. It came out as something between a sob … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3333,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[23,21,22,1,5,20],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6287","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-aita","category-daily-article","category-reddit-stories","category-story","category-story-daily","category-viral-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6287","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=6287"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6287\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6288,"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6287\/revisions\/6288"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/3333"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6287"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6287"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nextstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6287"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}\n\n\nPart 3 \u2014 The Truth Emily Left Behind<\/h2>\n
\n\n<\/div>\n<\/header>\n<\/div>\n\n