{"id":7450,"date":"2026-09-23T16:31:26","date_gmt":"2026-09-23T16:31:26","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/?p=7450"},"modified":"2026-09-23T16:31:26","modified_gmt":"2026-09-23T16:31:26","slug":"part4-my-husband-cut-me-off-from-our-money-and-laughed-17-days-later-he-came-home-to-a-surprise-he-never-expected","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/?p=7450","title":{"rendered":"PART4: \u201cMy Husband Cut Me Off From Our Money and Laughed\u201417 Days Later, He Came Home to a Surprise He Never Expected\u201d"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

<\/h1>\n
<\/div>\n<\/header>\n
\n

PART 4: THE PERSON WHO HELD THE PEN
\n\u201cYou told me your wife had already agreed to the sale.\u201d
\nThe man\u2019s words carried through the kitchen window.
\nFor a moment, I couldn\u2019t move.
\nElaine was still on the phone.
\n\u201cJune? What\u2019s happening?\u201d
\n\u201cTravis is here. He brought someone.\u201d
\n\u201cDo you know who?\u201d
\n\u201cNo. He just said Travis told him I agreed to a sale.\u201d
\n\u201cKeep me on the line.\u201d
\nI switched to speaker and placed the phone on the table.
\nOutside, Travis said something too quietly for me to hear.
\nThe older man shook his head.
\nThen they came toward the porch.
\nI opened the front door but stayed behind the screen.
\nTravis looked relieved to see me, which frightened me more than his anger would have.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

He had brought someone he expected me to behave in front of.
\nSomeone whose presence was supposed to make me polite.
\n\u201cJune,\u201d he said, \u201cthis is Mr. Bell. We need to clear up a misunderstanding.\u201d
\nThe older man stepped forward.
\n\u201cArthur Bell.\u201d
\n\u201cJune Parker Hale.\u201d
\nHis eyes moved past me into the house.
\n\u201cMay we come in?\u201d
\n\u201cMy attorney is on the phone. You can explain why you\u2019re here.\u201d
\nTravis\u2019s expression hardened.
\n\u201cCan you put the phone down for five minutes?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nMr. Bell looked at him.
\n\u201cYou said she wanted this meeting.\u201d
\n\u201cI said we needed one.\u201d
\n\u201cThat isn\u2019t the same thing.\u201d
\nIt was such a small correction.
\nStill, hearing another person refuse to accept Travis\u2019s version of a conversation made something in my chest loosen.
\nI opened the screen door.
\n\u201cYou can sit at the table.\u201d
\nMr. Bell came inside first.
\nTravis followed, carrying nothing this time.
\nNo envelope.
\nNo pen.
\nPerhaps he thought the man beside him would be enough.
\n\u201cMs. Mercer,\u201d I said toward the phone, \u201cthey\u2019re here.\u201d
\nElaine introduced herself and asked Mr. Bell whom he represented.
\n\u201cMy investment company is under contract with Cypress Landing Holdings,\u201d he said. \u201cWe advanced funds toward the project.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat project?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

He glanced at Travis.
\n\u201cThe acquisition and redevelopment of this property.\u201d
\nI felt the back of the chair against my legs.
\n\u201cCypress Landing doesn\u2019t own this property.\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s one of the things I came to resolve.\u201d
\nHe set his folder on the table and opened it.
\nInside were maps, printed emails, and a photograph of my house.
\nNot an old photograph.
\nThe hydrangeas beside the porch were blooming.
\nIt had been taken that spring.
\nI remembered pruning them.
\nI remembered Travis standing in the driveway with his phone while I knelt in the flower bed.
\nI had thought he was taking a picture of me.
\nMr. Bell turned a page.
\n\u201cMr. Hale represented that the company had authority to arrange the transaction and that you had approved the terms.\u201d
\n\u201cI haven\u2019t approved any terms.\u201d
\n\u201cJune,\u201d Travis began.
\nI looked directly at Mr. Bell.
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t know your name until two minutes ago.\u201d
\nThe man\u2019s mouth tightened.
\nFor the first time, he stopped looking at Travis for help.
\n\u201cDid you sign an authorization in February?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cHave you received any money from this project?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cDid you agree to vacate the residence?\u201d
\nMy hand closed around the chair.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\nMr. Bell looked down at his papers.
\nTravis reached across the table.
\n\u201cArthur, let\u2019s not\u2014\u201d
\nMr. Bell pulled the folder away.
\n\u201cLet\u2019s not what?\u201d
\nElaine spoke through the phone.
\n\u201cMr. Bell, please explain what your documents say about occupancy.\u201d
\nHe adjusted his glasses.
\n\u201cThe proposed closing schedule requires vacant possession. I was told Mrs. Hale had arranged temporary accommodation.\u201d
\nI thought of Diane standing on my porch.
\nA place in town.
\nJust temporarily.
\n\u201cWhen?\u201d I asked.
\nMr. Bell hesitated.
\n\u201cWhen was I supposed to leave?\u201d
\n\u201cBy the end of next week.\u201d
\nNobody spoke.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

From upstairs came the faint creak of the old air conditioner trying to start.
\nI had spent years keeping that house standing.
\nThey had given me a week to disappear from it.
\nTravis pulled out a chair.
\n\u201cNothing was finalized.\u201d
\nMr. Bell looked at him.
\n\u201cYou accepted an advance.\u201d
\n\u201cIt was for preliminary expenses.\u201d
\n\u201cYou told me the owner\u2019s approval was settled.\u201d
\n\u201cShe\u2019s my wife.\u201d
\nThe words landed heavily between us.
\nNot an answer.
\nAn explanation of why he thought an answer wasn\u2019t necessary.
\nI sat down slowly.
\n\u201cThat\u2019s why you came home with those papers.\u201d
\nTravis rubbed the back of his neck.
\n\u201cWe could have talked about this.\u201d
\n\u201cYou brought me something to sign after you had already taken the money.\u201d
\n\u201cI was trying to fix things.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat things?\u201d
\nHe looked at the phone.
\nMr. Bell closed one section of the folder.
\n\u201cWhere is the advance, Travis?\u201d
\nMy husband stared at him.
\nFor the first time that evening, he seemed less concerned with me than with the other man at the table.
\n\u201cIt\u2019s allocated.\u201d
\n\u201cTo what?\u201d
\n\u201cThe project.\u201d
\n\u201cThen provide the accounting.\u201d
\n\u201cI will.\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019ve been saying that for three weeks.\u201d
\nThree weeks.
\nWhile Travis was offshore.
\nWhile I was standing in the tax office wondering why a notice hadn\u2019t arrived.
\nWhile I was still trying to understand what had happened to our checking account.
\nMr. Bell turned toward the phone.
\n\u201cMs. Mercer, I have counsel. I\u2019ll have him contact you tomorrow.\u201d
\n\u201cPlease do. And preserve all correspondence and transaction records.\u201d
\nHe nodded, then looked at me.
\n\u201cI won\u2019t be sending anyone else onto the property.\u201d
\nI didn\u2019t thank him.
\nHe had sent someone before speaking to me once.
\nBut I was glad he had said it.
\nTravis stood when Mr. Bell stood.
\n\u201cArthur, give me a minute outside.\u201d
\n\u201cNo,\u201d the man said. \u201cYou\u2019ve had enough private minutes with me.\u201d
\nHe gathered his papers.
\nThen he paused at the doorway.
\n\u201cMrs. Hale, there\u2019s an email address in this file that was represented as yours. My attorney will send it to yours.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat address?\u201d
\nHe read it from a printed page.
\nIt contained my first and last name.
\nThe year I was born.
\nAnd a provider I had never used.
\n\u201cThat isn\u2019t mine.\u201d
\nMr. Bell looked at Travis for a long moment.
\nThen he left.
\nI listened to his truck reverse down the drive.
\nTravis stayed by the door.
\nHis face had gone pale beneath his offshore tan.
\n\u201cYou happy now?\u201d
\nI looked at him.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nThat seemed to surprise him.
\nPerhaps he had expected triumph.
\nA speech.
\nSomething he could point to and call cruel.
\nI was sitting beneath a ceiling I had painted myself, trying to understand how close I had come to being handed a moving date for my own life.
\n\u201cLeave, Travis.\u201d
\n\u201cWe need to talk.\u201d
\n\u201cAnything about the property goes through Elaine.\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019re still my wife.\u201d
\n\u201cYes,\u201d I said. \u201cI was your wife when you did this, too.\u201d
\nHe opened his mouth.
\nThen closed it.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A minute later, his truck was gone.
\nI stayed at the table with Elaine on the phone.
\nShe let me breathe before speaking.
\n\u201cJune, I need you to write down what was said while it\u2019s fresh.\u201d
\nI found a pen.
\nMy fingers wouldn\u2019t hold it properly.
\n\u201cStart with the things you remember clearly,\u201d she said.
\nSo I wrote.
\nThe sale.
\nThe advance.
\nThe email address.
\nThe end of next week.
\nWhen Caroline arrived, she found me halfway down the second page.
\nShe put her overnight bag beside the stairs.
\nThen she sat down without asking whether I wanted her to stay.
\nThe next morning, Elaine began taking steps to stop any further action involving the disputed documents while the matter was examined.
\nI signed statements.
\nI supplied copies.
\nI answered questions until my own name began to sound unfamiliar.
\nMr. Bell\u2019s attorney sent records that afternoon.
\nNot everything.
\nEnough.
\nThere were emails sent from the address that wasn\u2019t mine.
\nShort messages.
\nPolite messages.
\nMessages written by someone pretending to be a woman who trusted her husband.
\nTravis can coordinate on my behalf.
\nI am comfortable proceeding.
\nPlease send any questions through him while I\u2019m unavailable.
\nI read them in Elaine\u2019s office.
\nWhoever had written them had done a better job of making me sound obedient than of making me sound like myself.
\n\u201cCan you find out who made that account?\u201d I asked.
\n\u201cThere are ways to seek those records,\u201d Elaine said. \u201cIt may take time.\u201d
\nEverything would take time.
\nMeanwhile, somebody had already spent months becoming me on paper.
\nThen Elaine opened an attachment.
\nIt was a floor plan.
\nMy bedroom was labeled \u201cadministration.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The kitchen was \u201cstaff area.\u201d
\nDaddy\u2019s workshop was marked for removal.
\nI pushed my chair back.
\n\u201cI need a minute.\u201d
\nElaine nodded toward the hallway.
\nI made it to the small bathroom before I started crying.
\nNot because of the money.
\nNot even because of Travis.
\nBecause Daddy had built the workbench in that workshop low enough for me to stand beside him when I was eight.
\nBecause there were pencil marks on the doorframe showing how tall I had grown.
\nBecause someone had drawn one clean line through all of it.
\nWhen I came back, Elaine had turned the floor plan facedown.
\n\u201cThere\u2019s something I want you to consider,\u201d she said.
\nI sat.
\n\u201cHave you ever signed blank pages for Travis? Or partially completed forms?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cHas anyone had access to copies of your identification?\u201d
\n\u201cTravis. And our tax preparer.\u201d
\n\u201cAnyone else?\u201d
\nI started to say no.
\nThen I remembered Diane\u2019s kitchen.
\nThe previous Christmas.
\nA stack of envelopes beside her coffee maker.
\n\u201cDiane copied my driver\u2019s license once.\u201d
\nElaine picked up her pen.
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\n\u201cShe said the family insurance agent needed updated information.\u201d
\n\u201cWhich insurance?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d
\nThe shame rose so quickly that I almost stopped speaking.
\nElaine looked at me.
\n\u201cWhat happened next?\u201d
\n\u201cShe took it into the back room. Brought it out a few minutes later.\u201d
\n\u201cDo you remember the date?\u201d
\n\u201cChristmas Eve.\u201d
\nElaine wrote it down.
\nShe didn\u2019t ask why I had believed her.
\nI was grateful for that.
\nOn the drive home, I remembered something else.
\nDiane had asked whether my signature had changed since I got married.
\nShe had laughed when she asked.
\nSaid hers had become a scribble with age.
\nI had shown her how I signed June Parker Hale on the corner of a grocery list.
\nCaroline pulled into a parking lot when I told her.
\nFor a moment, she simply sat with both hands on the steering wheel.
\nThen she said, \u201cCall Elaine.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

That evening, my phone rang with a number I didn\u2019t recognize.
\nI almost ignored it.
\nThen I answered.
\n\u201cJune?\u201d
\nA woman\u2019s voice.
\nSoft. Unsteady.
\n\u201cYes?\u201d
\n\u201cIt\u2019s Beth.\u201d
\nTravis\u2019s younger sister.
\nI hadn\u2019t heard from her in months.
\nShe lived almost an hour away and usually let Diane speak for the entire family.
\n\u201cIs everything all right?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nI waited.
\nIn the background, I heard a door close.
\n\u201cMom told me you\u2019re trying to put Travis in jail.\u201d
\n\u201cI reported a signature that isn\u2019t mine.\u201d
\nBeth took a breath.
\n\u201cShe said you signed it and changed your mind.\u201d
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t.\u201d
\nSilence.
\nThen Beth asked, \u201cWere you in Lafayette that day?\u201d
\nThe question made me sit down.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nAnother silence.
\nLonger.
\n\u201cBeth?\u201d
\n\u201cI need to show you something.\u201d
\nWe met the next morning at a coffee shop near Elaine\u2019s office.
\nBeth arrived wearing hospital scrubs beneath a cardigan.
\nHer eyes were red.
\nShe didn\u2019t order anything.
\nShe put her phone on the table between us.
\n\u201cI\u2019m not asking you to forgive me,\u201d she said.
\nMy stomach tightened.
\n\u201cFor what?\u201d
\n\u201cFor not calling you.\u201d
\nShe unlocked the phone.
\nThere was a message thread with Diane.
\nThe first message I could see was dated two days before the document had supposedly been signed.
\nCan you come by tomorrow? Need a second witness for some property paperwork.
\nBeth had replied:
\nWhose property?
\nDiane:
\nJune\u2019s. Travis has it handled.
\nBeth looked at me.
\n\u201cI thought you would be there.\u201d
\nI said nothing.
\nShe scrolled.
\nThe next messages were from the following afternoon.
\nI\u2019m here. Where\u2019s June?
\nThe reply came three minutes later.
\nShe already signed. We just need the witness lines finished.
\nBeth\u2019s response filled almost the entire screen.
\nMom, I didn\u2019t see her sign anything. I\u2019m not putting my name on that.
\nI stopped breathing for a moment.
\n\u201cWhat happened?\u201d
\n\u201cMom got angry. Said I was making a simple thing difficult.\u201d
\n\u201cWas Travis there?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I looked down at the table.
\n\u201cWhat did he say?\u201d
\nBeth\u2019s mouth trembled.
\n\u201cHe said you were fine with it. He said everybody did paperwork this way.\u201d
\nI waited.
\n\u201cI left.\u201d
\n\u201cDid you sign anything?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nShe scrolled again.
\nA later message from Diane.
\nForget it. We found someone who understands how to help family.
\nI read the words twice.
\nThen Beth pulled her phone back and opened a photograph.
\n\u201cI took this before I left.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause I had a bad feeling. And because Mom was standing over me telling me it was none of my business.\u201d
\nThe photograph showed a stack of papers on Diane\u2019s kitchen table.
\nA blue pen.
\nThe corner of a floral placemat.
\nAnd the signature line.
\nBlank.
\nI felt my pulse in my throat.
\n\u201cCan you send that to Elaine?\u201d
\nBeth nodded.
\n\u201cI\u2019ll send everything.\u201d
\n\u201cWill you tell her what you just told me?\u201d
\nShe looked toward the window.
\nFor several seconds, I thought she would refuse.
\nThen she turned back.
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\nI looked at the photograph again.
\nA blank line in a kitchen I knew.
\nIt wasn\u2019t the whole answer.
\nBut it was a moment before the lie became a document.
\nAnd someone had kept it.
\nElaine met with Beth that afternoon.
\nI stayed in the waiting room while they spoke.
\nFor forty minutes, I watched the second hand move around the wall clock.
\nWhen Beth came out, her face was blotchy.
\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she said.
\nI stood.
\n\u201cI wish you had called.\u201d
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\nThere was nothing else to say that would make that smaller.
\nStill, when she asked whether she could hug me, I let her.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Two days later, we went to court for the first urgent hearing.
\nIt wasn\u2019t the final reckoning I had imagined during sleepless nights.
\nThere were other cases.
\nOther worried people carrying folders.
\nA woman beside me was holding a grocery bag full of papers.
\nSomebody\u2019s phone kept vibrating against a wooden bench.
\nTravis sat across the room in a shirt I had ironed before his last hitch.
\nDiane sat beside him.
\nShe never looked at me.
\nElaine had warned me that the hearing would be limited.
\nThe judge wasn\u2019t going to solve every financial question that morning.
\nBut by the time we left, there was an order barring further transfers or encumbrances of the disputed property while the case proceeded, along with requirements to preserve relevant records.
\nI held my copy with both hands.
\nFor the first time in weeks, there was something between their plans and my front door.
\nOutside the courtroom, Travis approached.
\nHis attorney said his name sharply.
\nHe kept walking.
\n\u201cJune, wait.\u201d
\nElaine stepped beside me.
\n\u201cWhat is it, Travis?\u201d
\nHe looked at her, then at me.
\n\u201cI need five minutes.\u201d
\n\u201cYou can speak through counsel,\u201d Elaine said.
\nHis face tightened.
\n\u201cThis isn\u2019t about the case.\u201d
\nDiane had reached the hallway behind him.
\nShe stopped when she heard that.
\nTravis looked back at her.
\nSomething passed between them that I didn\u2019t understand.
\nThen he turned to me again.
\n\u201cCheck the metal cabinet in the workshop.\u201d
\nI stared at him.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cThe bottom drawer. Behind the manuals.\u201d
\nDiane moved toward him.
\n\u201cTravis.\u201d
\nHe didn\u2019t look at her.
\n\u201cThere\u2019s a phone in there.\u201d
\nHis attorney took his arm.
\n\u201cThat\u2019s enough.\u201d
\nBut Travis was still looking at me.
\n\u201cDon\u2019t turn it on until you\u2019re with Elaine.\u201d
\nDiane\u2019s face had gone white.
\nIt was the first time I had seen her afraid.
\nNot offended.
\nNot angry.
\nAfraid.
\nElaine guided me toward the exit before anyone said anything else.
\nIn the parking lot, I could barely find the car door handle.
\n\u201cWhat was that?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d she said. \u201cBut don\u2019t go searching alone.\u201d
\nThat afternoon, Caroline came with me to the workshop.
\nWe filmed the cabinet before touching it and followed Elaine\u2019s instructions about handling what we found.
\nThe bottom drawer stuck halfway out.
\nIt always had.
\nDaddy used to lift the left corner with his knee.
\nI did the same.
\nBehind a manual for the riding mower was a small black phone wrapped in an old shop towel.
\nBeside it sat a charging cable and a folded receipt.
\nI didn\u2019t open anything.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We took it straight to Elaine.
\nShe arranged for someone who knew how to preserve its contents to examine it.
\nThen we waited.
\nThat was the hardest part.
\nKnowing there was something inside a device small enough to fit in my palm that had made Diane stop breathing in a courthouse hallway.
\nThe call came the following evening.
\nElaine asked me to come in.
\nCaroline drove.
\nWhen we reached the office, the phone sat on the desk beside a laptop.
\n\u201cThere are messages we need to review,\u201d Elaine said. \u201cAnd a video.\u201d
\n\u201cOf what?\u201d
\nShe folded her hands.
\n\u201cJune, I think you should watch it.\u201d
\nI sat down.
\nThe recording was less than a minute long.
\nAt first, all I could see was part of a doorway and the edge of a refrigerator.
\nThe camera shifted.
\nDiane\u2019s kitchen came into view.
\nThe floral placemats.
\nThe blue pen.
\nThe same stack of papers Beth had photographed.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Then I heard Travis\u2019s voice, close to the phone.
\n\u201cMom, stop. That doesn\u2019t even look like hers.\u201d
\nDiane sat at the table with a page beneath her hand.
\nShe looked up, irritated.
\n\u201cIt looks close enough.\u201d
\nThe pen moved.
\nMy name appeared one careful letter at a time.
\nI pressed my fingers against my mouth.
\nThere she was.
\nThe person who had held the pen.
\nThe person who had stood on my porch and told me I was destroying her son.
\nOn the screen, Travis spoke again.
\n\u201cJune\u2019s going to find out.\u201d
\nDiane didn\u2019t stop writing.
\n\u201cThen make sure she doesn\u2019t.\u201d
\nThe recording ended.
\nNobody in the office moved.
\nI stared at the black screen.
\nThen one question came out of me, barely above a whisper.
\n\u201cWhy did he keep that?\u201d
\nElaine glanced at the laptop.
\n\u201cJune,\u201d she said, \u201cthere\u2019s another message you need to see.\u201d
\nShe turned the screen toward me.
\nIt had been sent by Travis to Diane several hours after the recording.
\nKeep the paperwork straight. Once June signs the confirmation, nobody needs to know how we started\u2026\u2026<\/p>\n

Click here to continue read next FINAL PART5: \u201cMy Husband Cut Me Off From Our Money and Laughed\u201417 Days Later, He Came Home to a Surprise He Never Expected\u201d<\/a><\/h1>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

PART 4: THE PERSON WHO HELD THE PEN \u201cYou told me your wife had already agreed to the sale.\u201d The man\u2019s words carried through the kitchen window. For a moment, … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5199,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[31,1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7450","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-aita","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7450","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7450"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7450\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7453,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7450\/revisions\/7453"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/5199"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7450"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7450"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7450"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}