Ten Years After My Son and His Wife Died in a Car Crash, My Granddaughter Whispered, \u201cGrandma, I Found Proof They Didn\u2019t Die the Way Everyone Thinks They Did\u201d<\/p>\n
I was fifty-nine years old when the phone rang at 2:17 in the morning.<\/p>\n
I almost didn’t answer.<\/p>\n
I remember staring at the screen, wondering who could possibly be calling at that hour.<\/p>\n
Then I saw the number.<\/p>\n
The hospital.<\/p>\n
My heart began pounding before I even picked up.<\/p>\n
“Hello?”<\/p>\n
There was a pause.<\/p>\n
Then a man’s voice.<\/p>\n
“Mrs. Carter?”<\/p>\n
“Yes.”<\/p>\n
“I’m sorry to call you at this time, but there has been an accident involving your son and his wife.”<\/p>\n
I sat upright.<\/p>\n
“What kind of accident?”<\/p>\n
Another pause.<\/p>\n
The kind that lasts only two seconds but changes your life forever.<\/p>\n
“They were involved in a serious automobile collision.”<\/p>\n
I don’t remember everything he said after that.<\/p>\n
I remember the word “fatal.”<\/p>\n
I remember dropping the phone.<\/p>\n
I remember my husband finding me on the floor.<\/p>\n
And I remember thinking one impossible thought:<\/p>\n
Who will take care of the children?<\/p>\n
My son, Daniel, and his wife, Rachel, had seven children.<\/p>\n
Seven.<\/p>\n
The oldest was fourteen.<\/p>\n
The youngest was only two.<\/p>\n
And before sunrise, I became the person responsible for all of them.<\/p>\n
I had no idea that ten years later, one of those children would tell me something that would force me to question everything I thought I knew about that night.
\nThe Phone Call<\/p>\n
Daniel was thirty-eight.<\/p>\n
Rachel was thirty-six.<\/p>\n
They had been married for fifteen years.<\/p>\n
They weren’t perfect, but they were happy.<\/p>\n
They argued about ordinary things.<\/p>\n
Money.<\/p>\n
Laundry.<\/p>\n
Homework.<\/p>\n
Whose turn it was to make dinner.<\/p>\n
But they loved their children fiercely.<\/p>\n
Their house was always loud.<\/p>\n
Someone was laughing.<\/p>\n
Someone was crying.<\/p>\n
Someone was looking for a missing shoe.<\/p>\n
Someone was asking what was for dinner.<\/p>\n
I used to tease Daniel that he didn’t need a television because his children provided enough entertainment.<\/p>\n
He would laugh and say:<\/p>\n
“Mom, you have no idea.”<\/p>\n
I didn’t know that one day the house would become silent.<\/p>\n
The accident happened on a rainy October night.<\/p>\n
Daniel and Rachel were driving home after attending a family gathering.<\/p>\n
Their vehicle was struck on a rural highway.<\/p>\n
The official report stated that another driver crossed the center line after losing control of his vehicle.<\/p>\n
Daniel and Rachel died at the scene.<\/p>\n
The other driver survived.<\/p>\n
That was the explanation we were given.<\/p>\n
A terrible accident.<\/p>\n
A moment of bad weather.<\/p>\n
One tragic mistake.<\/p>\n
There was nothing anyone could do.<\/p>\n
At least, that’s what I believed.
\nSeven Children<\/p>\n
The morning after the accident, I went to Daniel’s house.<\/p>\n
I still remember opening the front door.<\/p>\n
Seven pairs of eyes looked at me.<\/p>\n
The oldest, Michael, was fourteen.<\/p>\n
His face was pale.<\/p>\n
His sister Emily, twelve, was holding the youngest child.<\/p>\n
Two-year-old Noah had no idea why everyone was crying.<\/p>\n
He kept asking:<\/p>\n
“Where’s Mommy?”<\/p>\n
I had no answer.<\/p>\n
Then Michael looked at me.<\/p>\n
“Grandma?”<\/p>\n
“Yes?”<\/p>\n
“Are Mom and Dad coming home?”<\/p>\n
I wanted to tell him yes.<\/p>\n
I wanted to lie.<\/p>\n
I wanted to take every ounce of pain away from those children.<\/p>\n
But I couldn’t.<\/p>\n
So I hugged him.<\/p>\n
And I cried.<\/p>\n
That was the moment I realized my life had changed.<\/p>\n
I wasn’t simply their grandmother anymore.<\/p>\n
I was their guardian.<\/p>\n
Their home.<\/p>\n
Their stability.<\/p>\n
Their safe place.
\nRaising Seven Children<\/p>\n
The next ten years were the hardest of my life.<\/p>\n
I was nearly sixty.<\/p>\n
Suddenly, I was making lunches for seven children.<\/p>\n
I learned how to manage school schedules.<\/p>\n
Doctor appointments.<\/p>\n
Parent-teacher conferences.<\/p>\n
Soccer practices.<\/p>\n
Dance recitals.<\/p>\n
Birthday parties.<\/p>\n
Teenage arguments.<\/p>\n
Nightmares.<\/p>\n
First crushes.<\/p>\n
Broken hearts.<\/p>\n
College applications.<\/p>\n
And grief.<\/p>\n
So much grief.<\/p>\n
I learned to cook enormous meals.<\/p>\n
I learned that one gallon of milk could disappear in less than a day.<\/p>\n
I learned that children could somehow lose twelve socks while producing only six.<\/p>\n
There were funny moments.<\/p>\n
There were exhausting moments.<\/p>\n
There were moments when I sat alone in the bathroom and cried because I didn’t know how I was going to keep going.<\/p>\n
But every morning, I got up.<\/p>\n
Because seven children were depending on me.
\nThe Questions We Never Asked<\/p>\n
For years, I never questioned the accident.<\/p>\n
Why would I?<\/p>\n
The police investigated it.<\/p>\n
There was an accident report.<\/p>\n
There were witnesses.<\/p>\n
There were photographs.<\/p>\n
There was a damaged vehicle.<\/p>\n
There was an insurance investigation.<\/p>\n
The conclusion was clear.<\/p>\n
It was an accident.<\/p>\n
Tragic.<\/p>\n
Unavoidable.<\/p>\n
A terrible night caused by another driver’s mistake.<\/p>\n
I accepted that explanation because I needed to.<\/p>\n
If I started questioning everything, I didn’t know whether I would survive emotionally.<\/p>\n
The children needed stability.<\/p>\n
They needed me to tell them that their parents were gone but that they were safe.<\/p>\n
So I told them the story everyone else had told us.<\/p>\n
Their parents died in a terrible accident.<\/p>\n
It wasn’t anyone’s fault except the circumstances.<\/p>\n
There was nothing more to know.<\/p>\n
For ten years, I believed that.<\/p>\n
Until the youngest child grew old enough to start asking questions of her own.
\nLily<\/p>\n
Her name was Lily.<\/p>\n
She was only two when her parents died.<\/p>\n
She didn’t remember the accident.<\/p>\n
For years, she knew her parents through photographs.<\/p>\n
Stories.<\/p>\n
Videos.<\/p>\n
Other people’s memories.<\/p>\n
She knew her father’s favorite song.<\/p>\n
She knew her mother’s laugh.<\/p>\n
She knew that her father hated mushrooms.<\/p>\n
She knew her mother always wore a certain perfume.<\/p>\n
But she didn’t have her own memories.<\/p>\n
That bothered her as she grew older.<\/p>\n
When she was twelve, she started asking questions.<\/p>\n
“What did Mom sound like when she was angry?”<\/p>\n
“Was Dad funny?”<\/p>\n
“Did they fight?”<\/p>\n
“What did they do the night they died?”<\/p>\n
I answered as honestly as I could.<\/p>\n
But she always wanted more.<\/p>\n
Then, when she was fourteen, something changed.<\/p>\n
She became obsessed with the accident.<\/p>\n
She wanted to know exactly what happened.<\/p>\n
She searched through old family documents.<\/p>\n
She watched old videos.<\/p>\n
She asked her siblings questions.<\/p>\n
She even requested copies of the accident report.<\/p>\n
I didn’t think much of it.<\/p>\n
Teenagers are curious.<\/p>\n
Especially children who lose their parents young.<\/p>\n
But Lily wasn’t satisfied.<\/p>\n
She kept digging.
\nThe Evening She Came to My Room<\/p>\n
It was a Tuesday night.<\/p>\n
I was folding laundry when Lily knocked on my bedroom door.<\/p>\n
She looked pale.<\/p>\n
“Grandma?”<\/p>\n
“Come in.”<\/p>\n
She closed the door behind her.<\/p>\n
Then she sat on the edge of my bed.<\/p>\n
“I need to ask you something.”<\/p>\n
“Okay.”<\/p>\n
“Do you remember the night Mom and Dad died?”<\/p>\n
I felt the old pain immediately.<\/p>\n
“Of course.”<\/p>\n
“Did you see the police report?”<\/p>\n
“Yes.”<\/p>\n
“Did you read all of it?”<\/p>\n
“I think so.”<\/p>\n
She stared at me.<\/p>\n
“What does that mean?”<\/p>\n
“It was ten years ago, Lily.”<\/p>\n
“I know.”<\/p>\n
She pulled something from her backpack.<\/p>\n
A folder.<\/p>\n
Old papers.<\/p>\n
Photographs.<\/p>\n
Copies of documents.<\/p>\n
My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n
“What is that?”<\/p>\n
She opened the folder.<\/p>\n
“I found something.”<\/p>\n
I looked at her.<\/p>\n
“What?”<\/p>\n
She lowered her voice.<\/p>\n
“Grandma, I don’t think Mom and Dad died the way everyone thinks they did.”<\/p>\n
I stopped breathing.
\n“What Are You Talking About?”<\/p>\n
“Lily, be careful.”<\/p>\n
“I’m not making this up.”<\/p>\n
She pulled out a photograph.<\/p>\n
It showed the road where the accident happened.<\/p>\n
I had seen photographs like it before.<\/p>\n
But Lily pointed to something near the edge of the image.<\/p>\n
“Look.”<\/p>\n
I leaned closer.<\/p>\n
There was a tire mark.<\/p>\n
Then another.<\/p>\n
They appeared to run in a direction that didn’t match the official explanation.<\/p>\n
“What am I looking at?”<\/p>\n
“The skid marks.”<\/p>\n
She handed me another document.<\/p>\n
“This is the accident reconstruction report.”<\/p>\n
I read it.<\/p>\n
My hands began trembling.<\/p>\n
“Where did you get this?”<\/p>\n
“Online.”<\/p>\n
“Why does this matter?”<\/p>\n
“Because the report says the other driver crossed the center line.”<\/p>\n
“Yes.”<\/p>\n
“But look at the photographs.”<\/p>\n
She pointed again.<\/p>\n
“His tire tracks begin on the opposite side.”<\/p>\n
I stared at the image.<\/p>\n
I wasn’t an investigator.<\/p>\n
I wasn’t a mechanic.<\/p>\n
I wasn’t a forensic expert.<\/p>\n
But something about what she was showing me made my stomach turn.
\nThe Missing Detail<\/p>\n
Lily had spent months researching.<\/p>\n
She discovered that one portion of the investigation had never been widely discussed.<\/p>\n
A witness had reported seeing another vehicle near the crash shortly before it happened.<\/p>\n
That vehicle wasn’t identified in the original news reports.<\/p>\n
According to Lily, the witness had described a dark SUV.<\/p>\n
“Why didn’t anyone tell us this?” I asked.<\/p>\n
“I don’t know.”<\/p>\n
“Did the police investigate it?”<\/p>\n
“Apparently.”<\/p>\n
“And?”<\/p>\n
She shook her head.<\/p>\n
“Nothing came of it.”<\/p>\n
I sat back.<\/p>\n
For ten years, I had believed the story was complete.<\/p>\n
Now I wasn’t sure.
\nA Forgotten Voice<\/p>\n
Then Lily played an audio recording.<\/p>\n
It was an old voicemail.<\/p>\n
My son Daniel’s voice.<\/p>\n
My heart nearly stopped.<\/p>\n
I hadn’t heard him in years.<\/p>\n
“Mom, it’s me.”<\/p>\n
His voice sounded normal.<\/p>\n
Happy.<\/p>\n
Alive.<\/p>\n
Then he said something that made Lily look at me.<\/p>\n
“I need to talk to you about something.”<\/p>\n
The recording ended.<\/p>\n
I stared at the phone.<\/p>\n
“When was this?”<\/p>\n
“The afternoon before the accident.”<\/p>\n
“Why didn’t you tell me?”<\/p>\n
“I didn’t know about it.”<\/p>\n
Lily explained that she found the recording on an old device that had been stored in a box.<\/p>\n
There were several deleted files.<\/p>\n
She had managed to recover one.<\/p>\n
But there was another detail.<\/p>\n
Daniel had sent a message to Rachel shortly before they left.<\/p>\n
It read:<\/p>\n
“We need to talk when we get home. Something isn’t right.”<\/p>\n
My hands went cold.
\nCould It Have Been More Than an Accident?<\/p>\n
For the first time in ten years, I allowed myself to consider the possibility.<\/p>\n
What if Daniel had been worried about something?<\/p>\n
What if the accident wasn’t random?<\/p>\n
What if someone had followed them?<\/p>\n
What if the other vehicle Lily discovered had something to do with what happened?<\/p>\n
The questions multiplied.<\/p>\n
But questions are not answers.<\/p>\n
I reminded Lily of that.<\/p>\n
“We can’t accuse anyone based on this.”<\/p>\n
“I know.”<\/p>\n
“We need evidence.”<\/p>\n
“I know.”<\/p>\n
“We need to be careful.”<\/p>\n
She nodded.<\/p>\n
Then she said:<\/p>\n
“That’s why I came to you.”
\nGoing Back Through the Evidence<\/p>\n
The following week, Lily and I contacted an attorney.<\/p>\n
We explained what we had found.<\/p>\n
We provided copies of the documents.<\/p>\n
We provided the recording.<\/p>\n
We provided the photograph.<\/p>\n
The attorney listened carefully.<\/p>\n
Then he said something I will never forget.<\/p>\n
“There’s enough here to justify asking more questions.”<\/p>\n
Not enough to prove a crime.<\/p>\n
Not enough to overturn the original conclusion.<\/p>\n
But enough to investigate.<\/p>\n
That distinction mattered.<\/p>\n
We didn’t want revenge.<\/p>\n
We wanted the truth.
\nThe Original Investigation<\/p>\n
The attorney requested additional records.<\/p>\n
Police photographs.<\/p>\n
Witness statements.<\/p>\n
Accident reconstruction materials.<\/p>\n
Dispatch logs.<\/p>\n
Vehicle inspection records.<\/p>\n
The process took weeks.<\/p>\n
Then months.<\/p>\n
Slowly, pieces began coming together.<\/p>\n
The dark SUV had actually been mentioned in an original witness statement.<\/p>\n
But the witness couldn’t provide a license plate number.<\/p>\n
Investigators had apparently searched for the vehicle.<\/p>\n
Nothing conclusive was found.<\/p>\n
There was no direct evidence connecting it to the crash.<\/p>\n
The skid marks were also consistent with several possible explanations.<\/p>\n
In other words, Lily’s discovery didn’t prove that someone had caused the accident.<\/p>\n
But it did show that the story was more complicated than we had been told.
\nThe Truth We Eventually Found<\/p>\n
Months later, investigators revisited the case.<\/p>\n
They reviewed the evidence with newer technology and a fresh perspective.<\/p>\n
The conclusion surprised all of us.<\/p>\n
There was still no evidence that Daniel and Rachel had been deliberately targeted.<\/p>\n
The crash was still considered an accident.<\/p>\n
But the original investigation had contained errors.<\/p>\n
Some evidence had been interpreted incorrectly.<\/p>\n
A witness statement had not been followed up as thoroughly as it should have been.<\/p>\n
And the dark SUV had been located after all.<\/p>\n
The driver had been traveling in the area that night.<\/p>\n
But there was no evidence that he had caused the collision.<\/p>\n
The truth wasn’t the dramatic conspiracy Lily had feared.<\/p>\n
It was something more complicated.<\/p>\n
Human error.<\/p>\n
Incomplete investigation.<\/p>\n
Lost information.<\/p>\n
And a family that had spent ten years believing it had every answer when it didn’t.
\nLily’s Discovery Still Changed Everything<\/p>\n
Even though we didn’t uncover a hidden murderer or secret plot, Lily’s discovery changed our family.<\/p>\n
It taught us that grief can make people afraid to ask questions.<\/p>\n
For ten years, I had accepted the official story because I needed something solid to hold on to.<\/p>\n
I needed to believe there was an explanation.<\/p>\n
I needed the children to have something simple to understand.<\/p>\n
But simple isn’t always the same as complete.<\/p>\n
Lily taught me that asking questions doesn’t mean refusing to accept reality.<\/p>\n
Sometimes it simply means wanting to understand it better.
\nThe Seven Children<\/p>\n
By then, the seven children were young adults.<\/p>\n
Michael was twenty-four.<\/p>\n
Emily was twenty-two.<\/p>\n
The others had grown up too.<\/p>\n
And Lily was no longer the little girl who had walked into my bedroom with a folder.<\/p>\n
She had become someone who understood how to investigate, question, and search for answers.<\/p>\n
I told them all what we had discovered.<\/p>\n
There was silence.<\/p>\n
Then Michael said:<\/p>\n
“I always wondered if there was more.”<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
“Why didn’t you tell me?”<\/p>\n
“Because you were already carrying everything.”<\/p>\n
That sentence broke my heart.<\/p>\n
He had been fourteen when his parents died.<\/p>\n
He had watched me raise his siblings.<\/p>\n
He had seen me exhausted.<\/p>\n
And he had decided to protect me by keeping his questions to himself.
\nThe Legacy of Their Parents<\/p>\n
We decided not to let the uncertainty define Daniel and Rachel’s memory.<\/p>\n
Instead, we focused on who they were.<\/p>\n
Daniel loved music.<\/p>\n
Rachel loved gardening.<\/p>\n
Daniel told terrible jokes.<\/p>\n
Rachel laughed at them anyway.<\/p>\n
They loved their children.<\/p>\n
That was the truth that mattered most.<\/p>\n
No investigation could change it.<\/p>\n
No accident report could erase it.<\/p>\n
No unanswered question could take it away.
\nWhat Lily Taught Me<\/p>\n
Lily once asked me:<\/p>\n
“Do you think Mom and Dad would be proud of me?”<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
“They would be incredibly proud.”<\/p>\n
“Even though I kept digging?”<\/p>\n
“Especially because you cared enough to keep looking.”<\/p>\n
She smiled.<\/p>\n
Then she hugged me.<\/p>\n
And I realized something.<\/p>\n
For ten years, I had thought my job was to protect these children from the pain of losing their parents.<\/p>\n
But maybe my job was also to help them carry the memory of their parents honestly.<\/p>\n
Not as perfect people.<\/p>\n
Not as photographs.<\/p>\n
Not as victims in a tragic story.<\/p>\n
But as human beings who lived, loved, laughed, struggled, and left behind seven children who would always carry part of them.
\nTen Years Later<\/p>\n
I still remember that phone call.<\/p>\n
2:17 in the morning.<\/p>\n
The hospital.<\/p>\n
The word “fatal.”<\/p>\n
I remember the fear.<\/p>\n
The shock.<\/p>\n
The empty house.<\/p>\n
The seven children.<\/p>\n
The first Christmas without Daniel and Rachel.<\/p>\n
The first birthday.<\/p>\n
The first graduation.<\/p>\n
The first time one of the children got married.<\/p>\n
I remember every milestone they experienced without their parents.<\/p>\n
And I remember the night Lily walked into my room and changed the way I remembered that terrible night.<\/p>\n
She didn’t uncover a hidden murderer.<\/p>\n
She didn’t expose a massive conspiracy.<\/p>\n
She uncovered something more important.<\/p>\n
She discovered that the truth can sometimes be more complicated than the story we were given.<\/p>\n
And she reminded me that asking questions isn’t betrayal.<\/p>\n
It isn’t disrespect.<\/p>\n
It isn’t refusing to move forward.<\/p>\n
Sometimes, asking questions is simply another way of loving someone.
\nThe Last Thing I Told Lily<\/p>\n
Before she left my room that night, I held her hand.<\/p>\n
“You know something?”<\/p>\n
“What?”<\/p>\n
“Your mother and father would be so proud of you.”<\/p>\n
She smiled.<\/p>\n
“I wish I could tell them.”<\/p>\n
I squeezed her hand.<\/p>\n
“Then tell them anyway.”<\/p>\n
She looked confused.<\/p>\n
“What do you mean?”<\/p>\n
“Talk to them.”<\/p>\n
“They’re gone.”<\/p>\n
“I know.”<\/p>\n
She smiled sadly.<\/p>\n
“But you can still tell them what you’ve become.”<\/p>\n
She nodded.<\/p>\n
And together, we walked downstairs.<\/p>\n
Seven children had once filled that house with noise.<\/p>\n
Now they were grown.<\/p>\n
But for one moment, I could almost hear the old sounds again.<\/p>\n
Daniel laughing.<\/p>\n
Rachel calling everyone to dinner.<\/p>\n
Seven children running through the hallway.<\/p>\n
Life happening.<\/p>\n
A family together.<\/p>\n
Then I looked at Lily.<\/p>\n
And I realized that although I couldn’t bring her parents back, I could make sure their story continued.<\/p>\n
Not as a mystery.<\/p>\n
Not as a tragedy.<\/p>\n
But as a legacy.<\/p>\n
Because sometimes the people we lose don’t disappear completely.<\/p>\n
They live in the stories we tell.<\/p>\n
In the habits we inherit.<\/p>\n
In the jokes we repeat.<\/p>\n
In the values we pass down.<\/p>\n
And in the children they leave behind.<\/p>\n
Ten years after the worst night of my life, my granddaughter taught me that the truth isn’t always about discovering a shocking secret.<\/p>\n
Sometimes it’s about finding the courage to look at an old story again.<\/p>\n
To ask difficult questions.<\/p>\n
To accept uncertainty.<\/p>\n
And, most importantly, to keep loving the people who are no longer here.<\/p>\n
That is what I will carry with me for the rest of my life.<\/p>\n
Not the unanswered questions.<\/p>\n
Not the accident photographs.<\/p>\n
Not the old reports.<\/p>\n
But the memory of my son and his wife\u2014and the seven children who survived them.<\/p>\n
Their lives became my life’s greatest responsibility.<\/p>\n
And in the end, that was the truth that mattered most.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Ten Years After My Son and His Wife Died in a Car Crash, My Granddaughter Whispered, \u201cGrandma, I Found Proof…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":1718,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1717","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1717","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1717"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1717\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1719,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1717\/revisions\/1719"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1718"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1717"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1717"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1717"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}