{"id":39106,"date":"2026-05-28T02:03:25","date_gmt":"2026-05-28T02:03:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106"},"modified":"2026-05-28T02:03:25","modified_gmt":"2026-05-28T02:03:25","slug":"bound-to-a-wheelchair-with-a-spinal-brace-after-a-suspicious-house-fire-almost-killed-me-i-watched-the-judge-dismiss-my-desperate-plea-to-save-my-sister-and-her-disabled-son-from-the-streets-my-bill","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106","title":{"rendered":"Bound to a wheelchair with a spinal brace after a suspicious house fire almost killed me, I watched the judge dismiss my desperate plea to save my sister and her disabled son from the streets. My billionaire father-in-law brutally kicked my front wheels, grabbing my hair to yank my head back as he sneered, “Your sister and her defective mutt belong in the gutter, and you’re next.” I didn’t scream or beg for mercy as my scalp burned. Instead, I calmly handed the bailiff the safety deposit box key my late father had hidden, unleashing an unredacted FBI dossier that proved their entire family fortune was stolen from the very disabled charity they were now trying to destroy."},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n

The courtroom smelled like rain-soaked wool, floor polish, and the kind of expensive perfume people wore when they expected to win.<\/p>\n

I sat near the plaintiff\u2019s table, locked inside a spinal brace that ran from my ribs to my hips, my wheelchair angled so I could see both the judge and the doors. Three months earlier, I had been a thirty-two-year-old physical therapist named Emily Parker, still stubborn enough to believe that hard work could fix almost anything. Then my house burned down at 2:14 in the morning.<\/p>\n

The fire inspector called it electrical. I called it impossible.<\/p>\n

My sister, Rachel, had been sleeping in my guest room with her eight-year-old son, Noah, who used crutches because of cerebral palsy. I got them out through the kitchen window, but a beam came down before I could follow. The heat cracked tiles, melted glass, and left me with two damaged vertebrae and a brace I hated more than pain itself.<\/p>\n

Now Rachel and Noah were about to be evicted from the only temporary apartment we could afford. I had filed an emergency petition to stop my father-in-law, Richard Whitmore, from selling the property out from under us. Richard was a billionaire developer, a charity-board darling, and the father of my late husband, Daniel.<\/p>\n

He also owned the judge\u2019s favorite golf club.<\/p>\n

\u201cMrs. Parker,\u201d Judge Halpern said, barely looking at me, \u201cthis court finds no sufficient basis to delay the transfer.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rachel\u2019s face went white. Noah clutched her sleeve.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour Honor,\u201d I said, forcing my voice steady, \u201cmy nephew\u2019s medical equipment is inside that apartment. If they\u2019re removed today, he has nowhere safe to go.\u201d<\/p>\n

Richard Whitmore rose behind me before the judge could answer. His polished shoe slammed into my front wheel, jolting my spine so hard my vision flashed.<\/p>\n

Then his hand tangled in my hair and yanked my head back.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour sister and her defective mutt belong in the gutter,\u201d he hissed, close enough for me to smell mint and cruelty, \u201cand you\u2019re next.\u201d<\/p>\n

The courtroom froze.<\/p>\n

I did not scream.<\/p>\n

I reached into the side pocket of my chair, pulled out a small brass key, and held it toward the bailiff.<\/p>\n

\u201cBox 117,\u201d I said calmly. \u201cFirst National Bank. My father said to open it in front of federal witnesses.\u201d<\/p>\n

Richard\u2019s hand loosened.<\/p>\n

And for the first time since the fire, he looked afraid.<\/p>\n

<\/h2>\n

The bailiff did not move at first. Nobody did. Even Judge Halpern sat straighter, as if the word \u201cfederal\u201d had reached across the bench and tapped him on the throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy clerk will handle any documents through proper channels,\u201d the judge said.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d said a voice from the back row.<\/p>\n

A man in a navy suit stood up. He had been sitting there all morning, quiet, plain, forgettable. He pulled a badge wallet from inside his jacket.<\/p>\n

\u201cSpecial Agent Mark Reynolds, FBI. We received a sealed notification from Thomas Parker\u2019s estate attorney instructing us to be present if that key was produced in open court.\u201d<\/p>\n

Thomas Parker was my father. A meticulous accountant. A boring man, some people said. A man who labeled every folder, balanced every receipt, and trusted almost nobody.<\/p>\n

He had died six weeks before the fire.<\/p>\n

Richard stepped away from my chair. \u201cThis is absurd. She\u2019s grieving, medicated, unstable.\u201d<\/p>\n

Agent Reynolds walked forward. \u201cThen you won\u2019t mind if we verify the contents.\u201d<\/p>\n

Judge Halpern\u2019s expression hardened, not at Richard, but at the witnesses watching from the gallery. Phones were already out. Court officers were whispering. Control was slipping.<\/p>\n

Within forty minutes, two federal agents returned with a gray evidence case. Inside were bank ledgers, donor correspondence, insurance records, and a hard drive sealed in an old freezer bag. My father\u2019s handwriting covered the first folder: WHITMORE FOUNDATION \u2014 UNREDACTED.<\/p>\n

The Whitmore Foundation had raised money for disabled children for twenty years. Wheelchairs. accessible vans, therapy grants, home modifications. Richard\u2019s public speeches always made donors cry.<\/p>\n

The dossier showed where the money really went.<\/p>\n

Shell companies. Fake contractors. Inflated renovation invoices. \u201cEmergency grants\u201d transferred to accounts controlled by Whitmore relatives. Millions siphoned from programs meant for children like Noah.<\/p>\n

Then came the file labeled PARKER HOUSE FIRE.<\/p>\n

My hands went cold.<\/p>\n

There were emails between Richard\u2019s private security chief and a demolition contractor. Photos of my house. A schedule. A note that read: \u201cMake it look old wiring. Target documents believed on site.\u201d<\/p>\n

My father had copied everything before he died. He had hidden the key with me because Daniel had once told him, \u201cIf anything happens, Emily is the only person in that family who won\u2019t sell the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n

Daniel had died in a boating accident the year before. I had mourned him. Now, looking at Richard\u2019s trembling hands, I wondered what else had been made to look accidental.<\/p>\n

Agent Reynolds turned to Richard.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Whitmore, step away from Mrs. Parker.\u201d<\/p>\n

Richard laughed once, too loudly. \u201cYou have no idea who I am.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rachel stood beside me, one hand on Noah\u2019s shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d she said. \u201cBut everyone does now.\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/h2>\n

The arrest did not happen like it does in movies. There was no dramatic tackle, no shouting crowd, no perfect line that healed everything. Richard Whitmore simply reached for his phone, ignored an agent\u2019s warning, and found himself turned toward the courtroom wall with his wrists cuffed behind his custom suit.<\/p>\n

Judge Halpern recessed the hearing so quickly his words tangled together.<\/p>\n

But recess did not save him.<\/p>\n

By evening, the story was everywhere. Not because I was brave, or because justice suddenly became easy, but because the evidence was too organized to bury. My father had built a map no honest investigator could ignore. Every stolen dollar led somewhere. Every shell company had a signature. Every false charity invoice had a matching luxury purchase.<\/p>\n

The emergency eviction was halted that same day. Rachel and Noah stayed in the apartment, and within a week, a federal victims\u2019 advocate helped move them into an accessible townhouse funded through seized Whitmore assets. Noah got a new power chair with blue rims because he said it looked \u201cfast enough to beat traffic and villains.\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed when he said it, then cried in the bathroom for twenty minutes.<\/p>\n

Recovery was not clean. My back still burned at night. I still woke up smelling smoke. Some mornings I hated the wheelchair. Other mornings I thanked it for carrying me into the courtroom when my legs could not.<\/p>\n

Richard\u2019s empire collapsed over months, not minutes. Board members resigned. Politicians returned donations. The Whitmore Foundation was placed under federal oversight, and the money that could be recovered went back to the families it had been stolen from.<\/p>\n

As for the fire, the contractor talked first. Then the security chief. Richard had wanted my father\u2019s files destroyed, and he had believed I was too broken to fight once my home, husband, and body were gone.<\/p>\n

He was wrong.<\/p>\n

A year later, I rolled up the ramp of a new therapy center named after my father. Rachel managed the front desk. Noah cut the ribbon with oversized scissors, grinning like he owned the city.<\/p>\n

I still kept the brass key.<\/p>\n

Not because I needed it anymore, but because it reminded me that quiet people can leave loud evidence, and broken people can still break powerful lies.<\/p>\n

So tell me honestly: if you had been sitting in that courtroom, watching a billionaire think he could crush a disabled woman and a child with money and fear, would you have stayed silent\u2014or would you have stood up too?<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The courtroom smelled like rain-soaked wool, floor polish, and the kind of expensive perfume people wore when they expected to win. I sat near the plaintiff\u2019s table, locked inside a spinal brace that ran from my ribs to my hips, my wheelchair angled so I could see both the judge and the doors. Three months […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":39108,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-39106","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\nBound to a wheelchair with a spinal brace after a suspicious house fire almost killed me, I watched the judge dismiss my desperate plea to save my sister and her disabled son from the streets. My billionaire father-in-law brutally kicked my front wheels, grabbing my hair to yank my head back as he sneered, "Your sister and her defective mutt belong in the gutter, and you're next." I didn't scream or beg for mercy as my scalp burned. Instead, I calmly handed the bailiff the safety deposit box key my late father had hidden, unleashing an unredacted FBI dossier that proved their entire family fortune was stolen from the very disabled charity they were now trying to destroy. - True Stories<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Bound to a wheelchair with a spinal brace after a suspicious house fire almost killed me, I watched the judge dismiss my desperate plea to save my sister and her disabled son from the streets. My billionaire father-in-law brutally kicked my front wheels, grabbing my hair to yank my head back as he sneered, "Your sister and her defective mutt belong in the gutter, and you're next." I didn't scream or beg for mercy as my scalp burned. Instead, I calmly handed the bailiff the safety deposit box key my late father had hidden, unleashing an unredacted FBI dossier that proved their entire family fortune was stolen from the very disabled charity they were now trying to destroy. - True Stories\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"The courtroom smelled like rain-soaked wool, floor polish, and the kind of expensive perfume people wore when they expected to win. I sat near the plaintiff\u2019s table, locked inside a spinal brace that ran from my ribs to my hips, my wheelchair angled so I could see both the judge and the doors. Three months […]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"True Stories\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2026-05-28T02:03:25+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"http:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/ChatGPT-Image-09_01_26-28-thg-5-2026.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"563\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"1000\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"true love\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"true love\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"6 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106\",\"name\":\"Bound to a wheelchair with a spinal brace after a suspicious house fire almost killed me, I watched the judge dismiss my desperate plea to save my sister and her disabled son from the streets. My billionaire father-in-law brutally kicked my front wheels, grabbing my hair to yank my head back as he sneered, \\\"Your sister and her defective mutt belong in the gutter, and you're next.\\\" I didn't scream or beg for mercy as my scalp burned. Instead, I calmly handed the bailiff the safety deposit box key my late father had hidden, unleashing an unredacted FBI dossier that proved their entire family fortune was stolen from the very disabled charity they were now trying to destroy. - True Stories\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/ChatGPT-Image-09_01_26-28-thg-5-2026.jpg\",\"datePublished\":\"2026-05-28T02:03:25+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/5c3397997033ec1244d0e345888afa8e\"},\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/ChatGPT-Image-09_01_26-28-thg-5-2026.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/ChatGPT-Image-09_01_26-28-thg-5-2026.jpg\",\"width\":563,\"height\":1000},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"Bound to a wheelchair with a spinal brace after a suspicious house fire almost killed me, I watched the judge dismiss my desperate plea to save my sister and her disabled son from the streets. My billionaire father-in-law brutally kicked my front wheels, grabbing my hair to yank my head back as he sneered, “Your sister and her defective mutt belong in the gutter, and you’re next.” I didn’t scream or beg for mercy as my scalp burned. Instead, I calmly handed the bailiff the safety deposit box key my late father had hidden, unleashing an unredacted FBI dossier that proved their entire family fortune was stolen from the very disabled charity they were now trying to destroy.\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/\",\"name\":\"True Stories\",\"description\":\"\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/5c3397997033ec1244d0e345888afa8e\",\"name\":\"true love\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/7edec003db6c2d994c618a5c9257e4836d0823076211ef1f440ea5b2dfb07eb1?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/7edec003db6c2d994c618a5c9257e4836d0823076211ef1f440ea5b2dfb07eb1?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"caption\":\"true love\"},\"sameAs\":[\"http:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\"],\"url\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=2\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"Bound to a wheelchair with a spinal brace after a suspicious house fire almost killed me, I watched the judge dismiss my desperate plea to save my sister and her disabled son from the streets. My billionaire father-in-law brutally kicked my front wheels, grabbing my hair to yank my head back as he sneered, \"Your sister and her defective mutt belong in the gutter, and you're next.\" I didn't scream or beg for mercy as my scalp burned. Instead, I calmly handed the bailiff the safety deposit box key my late father had hidden, unleashing an unredacted FBI dossier that proved their entire family fortune was stolen from the very disabled charity they were now trying to destroy. - True Stories","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"Bound to a wheelchair with a spinal brace after a suspicious house fire almost killed me, I watched the judge dismiss my desperate plea to save my sister and her disabled son from the streets. My billionaire father-in-law brutally kicked my front wheels, grabbing my hair to yank my head back as he sneered, \"Your sister and her defective mutt belong in the gutter, and you're next.\" I didn't scream or beg for mercy as my scalp burned. Instead, I calmly handed the bailiff the safety deposit box key my late father had hidden, unleashing an unredacted FBI dossier that proved their entire family fortune was stolen from the very disabled charity they were now trying to destroy. - True Stories","og_description":"The courtroom smelled like rain-soaked wool, floor polish, and the kind of expensive perfume people wore when they expected to win. I sat near the plaintiff\u2019s table, locked inside a spinal brace that ran from my ribs to my hips, my wheelchair angled so I could see both the judge and the doors. Three months […]","og_url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106","og_site_name":"True Stories","article_published_time":"2026-05-28T02:03:25+00:00","og_image":[{"width":563,"height":1000,"url":"http:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/ChatGPT-Image-09_01_26-28-thg-5-2026.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"true love","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"true love","Est. reading time":"6 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106","url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106","name":"Bound to a wheelchair with a spinal brace after a suspicious house fire almost killed me, I watched the judge dismiss my desperate plea to save my sister and her disabled son from the streets. My billionaire father-in-law brutally kicked my front wheels, grabbing my hair to yank my head back as he sneered, \"Your sister and her defective mutt belong in the gutter, and you're next.\" I didn't scream or beg for mercy as my scalp burned. Instead, I calmly handed the bailiff the safety deposit box key my late father had hidden, unleashing an unredacted FBI dossier that proved their entire family fortune was stolen from the very disabled charity they were now trying to destroy. - True Stories","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/ChatGPT-Image-09_01_26-28-thg-5-2026.jpg","datePublished":"2026-05-28T02:03:25+00:00","author":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/5c3397997033ec1244d0e345888afa8e"},"breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/ChatGPT-Image-09_01_26-28-thg-5-2026.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/ChatGPT-Image-09_01_26-28-thg-5-2026.jpg","width":563,"height":1000},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=39106#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"Bound to a wheelchair with a spinal brace after a suspicious house fire almost killed me, I watched the judge dismiss my desperate plea to save my sister and her disabled son from the streets. My billionaire father-in-law brutally kicked my front wheels, grabbing my hair to yank my head back as he sneered, “Your sister and her defective mutt belong in the gutter, and you’re next.” I didn’t scream or beg for mercy as my scalp burned. Instead, I calmly handed the bailiff the safety deposit box key my late father had hidden, unleashing an unredacted FBI dossier that proved their entire family fortune was stolen from the very disabled charity they were now trying to destroy."}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website","url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/","name":"True Stories","description":"","potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/5c3397997033ec1244d0e345888afa8e","name":"true love","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/7edec003db6c2d994c618a5c9257e4836d0823076211ef1f440ea5b2dfb07eb1?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/7edec003db6c2d994c618a5c9257e4836d0823076211ef1f440ea5b2dfb07eb1?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"true love"},"sameAs":["http:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org"],"url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=2"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/39106","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=39106"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/39106\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":39109,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/39106\/revisions\/39109"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/39108"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=39106"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=39106"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=39106"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}