PART 3
\nJessica scoffed loudly.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, come on. A mass? That\u2019s it? So she\u2019s not pregnant, right? We knew it.\u201d<\/p>\n
But the doctor finally turned toward her.<\/p>\n
His voice sharpened.
\n\u201cThis is not a moment for jokes.\u201d<\/p>\n
That shut her up.<\/p>\n
In the ambulance, Evelyn lay still as sirens filled the air.<\/p>\n
For the first time, she wasn\u2019t thinking about embarrassment.<\/p>\n
She wasn\u2019t thinking about diapers.<\/p>\n
She was thinking about the faint \u201cmovement\u201d she had felt at night.<\/p>\n
Not kicks.<\/p>\n
Not life.<\/p>\n
Something else.<\/p>\n
Something\u2026 reacting.<\/p>\n
At Oakwood General Hospital, everything became faster.<\/p>\n
White coats.<\/p>\n
Gloves.<\/p>\n
Forms she couldn\u2019t read fast enough.<\/p>\n
Machines rolling beside her like silent witnesses.<\/p>\n
And then\u2014an older specialist entered the room.<\/p>\n
Dr. Helena Grant.<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t smile.<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t look surprised.<\/p>\n
She looked like someone who had seen something similar\u2026 once.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Ross,\u201d she said calmly, \u201cI need you to listen very carefully.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn nodded weakly.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe are going to run additional scans. But I want you to understand something first.\u201d<\/p>\n
She paused.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is not a pregnancy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn closed her eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut it is growing.\u201d<\/p>\n
That made Evelyn\u2019s eyes snap open.<\/p>\n
Hours passed.<\/p>\n
More scans.<\/p>\n
More silence.<\/p>\n
More doctors whispering behind glass doors.<\/p>\n
Her children were kept outside the imaging wing.<\/p>\n
For the first time in years, they were not in control of the situation.<\/p>\n
And that unsettled them more than anything.<\/p>\n
Finally, Dr. Grant returned.<\/p>\n
She placed a folder on the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Ross,\u201d she said, \u201cwe\u2019ve reviewed your scans with a radiology team.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn waited.<\/p>\n
Her hands were shaking.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe believe the mass is not a tumor in the traditional sense,\u201d Dr. Grant continued carefully. \u201cIt has structure. Organization. It is forming tissue patterns\u2026 that should not exist.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jessica, standing at the doorway, crossed her arms.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo what? It\u2019s cancer?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant didn\u2019t answer immediately.<\/p>\n
Then she said something that made the room go still.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe think it is an ancient parasitic growth.\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence.<\/p>\n
Even Jessica stopped breathing.<\/p>\n
Evelyn whispered, \u201cParasite?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant nodded slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cA rare type. Extremely rare. One we\u2019ve only seen in historical medical records. It can mimic pregnancy hormones. It can\u2026 imitate gestation in the body.\u201d<\/p>\n
Peter stepped forward.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s impossible. That doesn\u2019t happen in real life.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant looked at him directly.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is happening in real life. Inside your mother.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn\u2019s voice broke.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why did I feel movement?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant hesitated again.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is the part we don\u2019t fully understand yet.\u201d<\/p>\n
She flipped open the folder.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere appears to be neural activity.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jessica blinked.<\/p>\n
\u201cNeural\u2026 like brain activity?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
The room went silent again.<\/p>\n
Evelyn slowly placed a hand on her stomach.<\/p>\n
For months she had spoken to it.<\/p>\n
Cared for it.<\/p>\n
Believed in it.<\/p>\n
And now\u2026<\/p>\n
Something inside her might have been listening.<\/p>\n
That night, under hospital monitoring, Evelyn was left alone in a dim room.<\/p>\n
Machines blinked softly beside her.<\/p>\n
Her children had gone to argue in the hallway.<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t care anymore.<\/p>\n
For the first time, she wasn\u2019t afraid of embarrassment.<\/p>\n
She was afraid of what was inside her hearing her thoughts.<\/p>\n
At 2:14 a.m., the monitor beside her bed beeped sharply.<\/p>\n
Her heart rate spiked.<\/p>\n
Not because of fear.<\/p>\n
Because something inside her abdomen had shifted.<\/p>\n
Not a kick.<\/p>\n
A response.<\/p>\n
The ultrasound screen flickered on automatically\u2014no one had touched it.<\/p>\n
And in the gray blur of imaging\u2026<\/p>\n
something inside her appeared to turn toward the probe.<\/p>\n
Not like a fetus.<\/p>\n
Not like an organ.<\/p>\n
But like something aware.<\/p>\n
Evelyn whispered into the dark room:<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you\u2026 real?\u201d<\/p>\n
The machine beeped once.<\/p>\n
Long.<\/p>\n
Steady.<\/p>\n
Almost like an answer.<\/p>\n
And somewhere beyond the hospital room door\u2026<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant was already on the phone.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026Yes, I\u2019m sure. She\u2019s the one from the old case file.\u201d<\/p>\n
Pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, it\u2019s not gone. It\u2019s active again.\u201d<\/p>\n
Another pause.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026and this time, it chose a host who believed it was a child.\u201d<\/p>\n
PART 4
\nThe words \u201cold case file\u201d stuck in Evelyn\u2019s mind long after the call ended.<\/p>\n
She lay still in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling tiles like they might rearrange themselves into an explanation.<\/p>\n
A host who believed it was a child.<\/p>\n
What kind of sentence was that?<\/p>\n
And why did it sound like Dr. Grant wasn\u2019t speaking about a medical condition\u2026 but something that had already been studied, contained, and then forgotten?<\/p>\n
At 3:00 a.m., the door opened quietly.<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant stepped inside alone this time.<\/p>\n
No clipboard. No team.<\/p>\n
Just her.<\/p>\n
She pulled a chair close to Evelyn\u2019s bed and sat down.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need to ask you something,\u201d she said softly.<\/p>\n
Evelyn nodded faintly.<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you experienced dreams?\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn blinked.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026dreams?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. Very vivid ones. About water, pressure, darkness\u2026 or voices.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn\u2019s throat tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant didn\u2019t react like someone surprised.<\/p>\n
She reacted like someone confirming a theory.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Ross,\u201d she said carefully, \u201cthis condition doesn\u2019t just grow in the body. It interacts with the mind.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn\u2019s fingers curled into the blanket.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not crazy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t say you were.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut you think I imagined it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Dr. Grant said quickly. \u201cI think it communicated with you.\u201d<\/p>\n
That sentence made the room feel colder.<\/p>\n
Outside the room, Jessica paced the hallway.<\/p>\n
Peter was arguing with a nurse about second opinions.<\/p>\n
Thomas sat on a chair scrolling his phone, still detached.<\/p>\n
But none of them were listening to what mattered.<\/p>\n
Because for the first time, Evelyn wasn\u2019t the one being dismissed.<\/p>\n
The doctors were listening to her body.<\/p>\n
Inside the room, Dr. Grant opened a thin folder.<\/p>\n
Old.<\/p>\n
Not digital.<\/p>\n
Paper.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wasn\u2019t planning to show you this,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
She placed a black-and-white medical scan on the table.<\/p>\n
It was grainy, decades old.<\/p>\n
But the shape inside it was unmistakably similar to what Evelyn had inside her now.<\/p>\n
Evelyn\u2019s breath caught.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis\u2026 is me?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant shook her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
She pointed at a handwritten label on the file.<\/p>\n
Patient: Unknown. Case archived 1983. Oakwood Research Division.<\/p>\n
Evelyn frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was a child in 1983.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know,\u201d Dr. Grant said quietly.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s why this matters.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn sat up slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you saying?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant hesitated.<\/p>\n
Then she said it plainly.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe think whatever is inside you\u2026 has appeared before. Rarely. Decades apart.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn\u2019s voice trembled.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd what happened to those patients?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant didn\u2019t answer immediately.<\/p>\n
That silence was the answer.<\/p>\n
Finally:<\/p>\n
\u201cThey either died,\u201d she said, \u201cor the condition\u2026 stopped on its own.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn swallowed.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd the ones who survived?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant looked at her directly.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey stopped reporting symptoms after it disappeared.\u201d<\/p>\n
A pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cOr they forgot.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn felt a chill crawl through her chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cForgot?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cSome cases show memory loss. Emotional detachment. As if the experience was\u2026 erased from them over time.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn whispered, \u201cThat doesn\u2019t make sense.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Dr. Grant agreed. \u201cIt doesn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
A soft beep came from the monitor.<\/p>\n
Both women looked up.<\/p>\n
Evelyn\u2019s heart rate had increased again.<\/p>\n
But this time\u2026<\/p>\n
she hadn\u2019t felt fear.<\/p>\n
Not consciously.<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant stood quickly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need to run a neural scan.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNeural?\u201d Evelyn asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cBrain activity.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant hesitated at the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause it shouldn\u2019t be possible for a uterine condition to synchronize with emotional responses.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked back at Evelyn.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut yours is.\u201d<\/p>\n
Later that morning, the scan results came in.<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant stood frozen in front of the screen.<\/p>\n
One of the technicians asked, \u201cIs it neurological?\u201d<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n
Because the data didn\u2019t show inflammation.<\/p>\n
Or tumor spread.<\/p>\n
Or infection.<\/p>\n
It showed patterned response loops.<\/p>\n
Like recognition.<\/p>\n
Like learning.<\/p>\n
Like communication.<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, Evelyn was alone again.<\/p>\n
Her children had finally been told to wait outside the hospital entirely.<\/p>\n
No more opinions.<\/p>\n
No more jokes.<\/p>\n
No more laughter.<\/p>\n
Just silence.<\/p>\n
Evelyn placed her hand on her stomach again.<\/p>\n
For the first time since arriving at the clinic\u2026<\/p>\n
she didn\u2019t speak to it like it was a baby.<\/p>\n
She spoke to it like it was listening.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you?\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n
The monitor beside her beeped once.<\/p>\n
Then twice.<\/p>\n
A pause.<\/p>\n
Then a third beep\u2014slower.<\/p>\n
Deliberate.<\/p>\n
Not random.<\/p>\n
Not medical.<\/p>\n
Responsive.<\/p>\n
In the hallway, Dr. Grant was on the phone again.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis isn\u2019t a recurrence,\u201d she said quietly. \u201cIt\u2019s continuation.\u201d<\/p>\n
Pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes\u2026 I\u2019m certain.\u201d<\/p>\n
Another pause.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026it remembers her.\u201d<\/p>\n
Back in the room, Evelyn suddenly felt something she hadn\u2019t before.<\/p>\n
Not movement.<\/p>\n
Not pressure.<\/p>\n
But clarity.<\/p>\n
Like a thought forming that wasn\u2019t fully hers.<\/p>\n
A single impression, quiet and precise:<\/p>\n
Not a child. Not a mistake. Not new.<\/p>\n
Her breath caught.<\/p>\n
She whispered, \u201cYou\u2019re\u2026 awake.\u201d<\/p>\n
The monitor beeped once.<\/p>\n
Confirmed.<\/p>\n
And at that exact moment, every machine in the room flickered.<\/p>\n
The lights dimmed.<\/p>\n
The heart monitor flattened for half a second\u2014<\/p>\n
then returned to normal.<\/p>\n
But Evelyn\u2019s eyes stayed open.<\/p>\n
Because for just that brief moment\u2026<\/p>\n
she hadn\u2019t felt alone in her body anymore.<\/p>\n
PART 5
\nThe flicker in the lights was brief, but the silence that followed was absolute.<\/p>\n
No beeping.<\/p>\n
No hum of machines.<\/p>\n
Just Evelyn\u2019s breathing.<\/p>\n
Slow.<\/p>\n
Measured.<\/p>\n
Awake.<\/p>\n
Then the monitors rebooted one by one, as if nothing had happened.<\/p>\n
But something had changed.<\/p>\n
Not in the equipment.<\/p>\n
In her.<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant returned to the room at dawn.<\/p>\n
This time, she wasn\u2019t alone.<\/p>\n
Two senior specialists followed her in, both carrying sealed folders.<\/p>\n
They looked like people who had been pulled into something they had spent their careers avoiding.<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant closed the door behind them.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe have the full historical file,\u201d she said quietly.<\/p>\n
Evelyn looked at them.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n
One of the specialists exhaled.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd we were wrong to call it a disease.\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence.<\/p>\n
The words landed heavily.<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant placed the folders on the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis condition is not random,\u201d she said. \u201cIt appears in cycles. Every few decades. Always in women who are emotionally isolated. Always in bodies under extreme hormonal or psychological stress.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn\u2019s voice was barely a whisper.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo what is it?\u201d<\/p>\n
The second specialist finally spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cA symbiotic entity.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jessica, standing frozen in the doorway, scoffed weakly.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not real.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant didn\u2019t look at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is now.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn stared at them.<\/p>\n
\u201cAll this time\u2026 I thought I was pregnant.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her voice cracked slightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wanted it to be real.\u201d<\/p>\n
The room softened for a moment.<\/p>\n
Even Jessica didn\u2019t interrupt.<\/p>\n
Even Peter didn\u2019t joke.<\/p>\n
Even Thomas lowered his phone.<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant pulled out one final document.<\/p>\n
A handwritten report, dated over forty years ago.<\/p>\n
At the top, a single phrase was written:<\/p>\n
PROJECT LULLABY<\/p>\n
Evelyn frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is that?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant hesitated.<\/p>\n
\u201cA discontinued research program,\u201d she said. \u201cStudying whether human emotional deprivation could trigger biological compensations.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn blinked.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026compensations?\u201d<\/p>\n
The specialist answered this time.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe body creates what the mind is denied.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn\u2019s hands tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s impossible.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d Dr. Grant said. \u201cIt should be.\u201d<\/p>\n
She turned a page.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut the data shows a pattern. Every documented case involved individuals who experienced long-term emotional neglect. The body\u2026 attempts to generate connection.\u201d<\/p>\n
Evelyn\u2019s throat tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo what\u2019s inside me is\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
She couldn\u2019t finish.<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant did.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026a biological response to loneliness.\u201d<\/p>\n
The room went still.<\/p>\n
Evelyn slowly placed her hand on her stomach.<\/p>\n
For the first time, she didn\u2019t feel fear.<\/p>\n
She felt grief.<\/p>\n
A deep, quiet sadness.<\/p>\n
Not for what was inside her\u2026<\/p>\n
but for what it meant.<\/p>\n
That night, Evelyn asked for everyone to leave the room.<\/p>\n
Even her children.<\/p>\n
They argued.<\/p>\n
They protested.<\/p>\n
But something in her voice stopped them.<\/p>\n
Not anger.<\/p>\n
Clarity.<\/p>\n
When she was finally alone, the hospital lights dimmed automatically.<\/p>\n
The room settled into quiet.<\/p>\n
Evelyn lay back and closed her eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand now,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n
No answer came through machines.<\/p>\n
But she didn\u2019t need one.<\/p>\n
For the first time, she didn\u2019t speak to it as something separate.<\/p>\n
She spoke as if speaking to herself.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou weren\u2019t a baby,\u201d she said softly.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were just\u2026 me, trying not to be alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
A tear slid down her temple.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry it took me this long to understand.\u201d<\/p>\n
The monitor gave a slow, steady beep.<\/p>\n
Not erratic.<\/p>\n
Not distressed.<\/p>\n
Stable.<\/p>\n
Morning came.<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant entered cautiously.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Ross?\u201d<\/p>\n
The bed was empty.<\/p>\n
The sheets were neatly folded.<\/p>\n
The monitor was off.<\/p>\n
No alarms had been triggered.<\/p>\n
No doors forced.<\/p>\n
No signs of emergency.<\/p>\n
Only a note on the bedside table.<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant picked it up and read aloud:<\/p>\n
\u201cI went home. It didn\u2019t need me anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
She lowered the paper slowly.<\/p>\n
Jessica stepped forward.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant didn\u2019t answer immediately.<\/p>\n
Because the scan machine in the corner quietly printed a final image that no one had requested.<\/p>\n
A last ultrasound.<\/p>\n
Empty.<\/p>\n
Completely.<\/p>\n
No mass.<\/p>\n
No anomaly.<\/p>\n
No trace.<\/p>\n
Peter whispered, \u201cDid she\u2026 die?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant shook her head slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
A pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was never sick in the way we thought.\u201d<\/p>\n
Thomas frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen what was it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dr. Grant looked at the empty bed.<\/p>\n
And finally said:<\/p>\n
\u201cA life asking to be acknowledged\u2026 that stopped asking.\u201d<\/p>\n
Three weeks later, Evelyn was back at her lake house.<\/p>\n
The air was quieter there.<\/p>\n
Not empty.<\/p>\n
Just calm.<\/p>\n
Her children visited once.<\/p>\n
Then twice.<\/p>\n
Then more carefully after that.<\/p>\n
But something had changed in all of them.<\/p>\n
Not dramatically.<\/p>\n
Just enough.<\/p>\n
One afternoon, Evelyn sat on the porch with a cup of tea.<\/p>\n
The wind moved through the trees.<\/p>\n
Soft.<\/p>\n
Present.<\/p>\n
Real.<\/p>\n
She placed a small knitted baby sock on the table beside her.<\/p>\n
Yellow yarn.<\/p>\n
Old habit.<\/p>\n
Then she smiled faintly.<\/p>\n
Not at what she had lost.<\/p>\n
But at what she had finally understood.<\/p>\n
Inside her home, there were no medical machines.<\/p>\n
No charts.<\/p>\n
No alarms.<\/p>\n
Only silence that belonged to her this time.<\/p>\n
And for the first time in years\u2026<\/p>\n
Evelyn Ross was not defined by what her body had tried to become.<\/p>\n
But by the fact that she finally felt like she existed without needing permission from anything inside her.<\/p>\n
The End<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
PART 3 Jessica scoffed loudly. \u201cOh, come on. A mass? That\u2019s it? So she\u2019s not pregnant, right? We knew it.\u201d But the doctor finally turned toward her. His voice sharpened. … <\/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-1214","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-home"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstorynews.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1214","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstorynews.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstorynews.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstorynews.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstorynews.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1214"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/readstorynews.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1214\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1215,"href":"https:\/\/readstorynews.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1214\/revisions\/1215"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstorynews.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1214"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstorynews.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1214"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstorynews.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1214"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}