{"id":52410,"date":"2026-06-24T15:40:53","date_gmt":"2026-06-24T15:40:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410"},"modified":"2026-06-24T15:40:53","modified_gmt":"2026-06-24T15:40:53","slug":"at-207-a-m-my-phone-lit-up-in-the-dark-mrs-alvarez-whispered-gerald-theres-a-man-in-your-backyard-with-a-crowbar-before-i-could-answer-i-heard-metal-scrape-against","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410","title":{"rendered":"At 2:07 a.m., my phone lit up in the dark. Mrs. Alvarez whispered, \u201cGerald, there\u2019s a man in your backyard with a crowbar.\u201d Before I could answer, I heard metal scrape against my basement door. Everyone thought I was a helpless old man living alone. My son thought so too. But the man outside had just walked straight into the trap I built for all of them\u2026"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u0110\u00e3 vi\u1ebft \u0111\u00fang 3 ph\u1ea7n<\/strong>, m\u1ed7i ph\u1ea7n n\u1eb1m trong kho\u1ea3ng s\u1ed1 t\u1eeb y\u00eau c\u1ea7u.<\/p>\n

Part 1<\/strong><\/p>\n

At 2:07 a.m., my phone shook on the nightstand like a warning bell. My neighbor whispered, \u201cGerald, there is a man in your backyard with a crowbar,\u201d and before I could answer, glass cracked downstairs.<\/p>\n

For one breath, I sat perfectly still in the dark.<\/p>\n

That was what people never understood about old men. They expected panic. Trembling hands. A desperate call to 911 with my voice breaking. My son Eric certainly expected it. So did his wife, Lila, who had spent the last six months telling everyone in our church that I was \u201cconfused,\u201d \u201cfragile,\u201d and \u201cnot safe alone in that big house.\u201d<\/p>\n

The big house. That was what this was really about.<\/p>\n

My late wife, Marian, and I had bought it forty years ago, when the street was mostly trees and mud. Now developers were offering ridiculous money for every house on the block, and Eric had started looking at me the way vultures look at a fence post.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad, be reasonable,\u201d he had said two days earlier, standing in my kitchen in his perfect gray coat. \u201cYou can\u2019t even remember where you put your medication.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t take medication,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

Lila smiled like I had proved her point. \u201cSee? This is what we\u2019re worried about.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then Eric slid papers across the table. A \u201ctemporary\u201d power of attorney. A \u201csimple\u201d sale agreement. A \u201cloving\u201d decision.<\/p>\n

I slid them back.<\/p>\n

His face hardened. \u201cYou always were selfish.\u201d<\/p>\n

Since then, my mailbox had been opened twice, my garden gate had been left swinging, and strange tire marks had appeared near the alley. Eric called each incident \u201cyour imagination.\u201d Mrs. Alvarez called it something else.<\/p>\n

Now someone was in my yard with a crowbar.<\/p>\n

I muted the phone and moved to the window. Moonlight cut across the lawn. A man in a black hoodie crouched by the rear basement door, working the frame. Across the fence, my neighbor Mrs. Alvarez stood behind her curtain, phone still at her ear.<\/p>\n

I pressed one button on the tablet beside my bed.<\/p>\n

Silent floodlights burst on, white and brutal. The man froze. His head snapped up, and for half a second I saw his face clearly.<\/p>\n

Not a stranger.<\/p>\n

Derek Shaw. Eric\u2019s poker buddy. The same man who had appraised my house \u201cfor free.\u201d<\/p>\n

I felt no fear then. Only a clean, cold sadness.<\/p>\n

I unmuted the phone. \u201cMaria,\u201d I whispered, \u201ccall Detective Hall. Tell him the blue folder is in play.\u201d<\/p>\n

Downstairs, Derek lifted the crowbar again.<\/p>\n

I picked up my robe, slipped my old service revolver into the pocket\u2014not to use, only to steady my hand\u2014and started walking toward the trap my family had built for themselves.<\/p>\n

Part 2<\/strong><\/p>\n

By the time I reached the hallway, Derek had forced the basement door open. I heard him stumble into the dark, cursing softly.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Gerald,\u201d I murmured to the empty house. \u201cBe the helpless old fool they need you to be.\u201d<\/p>\n

I did not turn on the lights. I did not shout. I let Derek move through the basement, past the wine rack, past Marian\u2019s old canning shelves, straight toward the locked file cabinet beneath the stairs. He knew exactly where it was. That told me everything.<\/p>\n

For months, Eric had been asking about Marian\u2019s estate documents. He thought the house was only in my name. He thought if he could prove I was incompetent, he could control the sale. What he did not know was that Marian, who trusted banks less than she trusted thunderstorms, had placed the property in a private trust ten years earlier.<\/p>\n

And after Eric\u2019s first \u201cconcerned\u201d phone call to my doctor, I had placed cameras in every hallway, every entrance, and every room where money had ever been discussed.<\/p>\n

The cameras recorded Derek breaking in.<\/p>\n

The cameras recorded him opening the cabinet with a key I had never given him.<\/p>\n

And the camera inside the cabinet recorded his face when he found the folder I had planted there.<\/p>\n

It was marked MEDICAL EVALUATION\u2014GERALD WHITAKER.<\/p>\n

Inside was not my diagnosis. It was a stack of photocopied emails between Eric, Lila, Derek, and a developer named Morris Vale. They discussed pressuring me, forging a doctor\u2019s letter, staging \u201cevidence of decline,\u201d and making the break-in look like something I had imagined.<\/p>\n

Derek\u2019s whisper cut through the speaker in my robe pocket.<\/p>\n

\u201cEric, it\u2019s here. The old man kept everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

My heart tightened. Hearing your child betray you in theory is one thing. Hearing his voice answer at 2:19 a.m. is another.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood,\u201d Eric said through Derek\u2019s phone. \u201cTake the folder and the trust papers. If he wakes up, scare him. Don\u2019t hurt him unless you have to.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lila\u2019s voice came next, sharp as broken glass. \u201cAnd make sure the basement door looks like he did it himself. He told the doctor he hears noises, remember?\u201d<\/p>\n

I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n

I had raised that boy through fevers, school fights, and the night his mother died. I had sold my boat to pay his college debt. I had held his daughter in this very house.<\/p>\n

Now he wanted me declared insane.<\/p>\n

Derek came upstairs holding the planted folder and a small fireproof box. He grinned when he saw me standing in the kitchen.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, Mr. Whitaker,\u201d he said, lifting the crowbar, \u201clooks like you had a little accident.\u201d<\/p>\n

I let my shoulders sag. \u201cPlease, Derek. Don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

His smile widened. \u201cThat\u2019s better. Weak looks natural on you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Behind him, red and blue lights began to bloom across the kitchen walls.<\/p>\n

Part 3<\/strong><\/p>\n

Derek heard the sirens too late.<\/p>\n

His smile collapsed. He spun toward the back door, but Detective Hall stepped in from the mudroom with two uniformed officers behind him.<\/p>\n

\u201cCrowbar down,\u201d Hall said.<\/p>\n

Derek tried to laugh. \u201cThis is a misunderstanding. Gerald called me. He gets confused at night.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I said quietly. \u201cYou talk too much.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hall held up his phone. On the screen was the live recording from my security system, Derek\u2019s call to Eric still running, Eric\u2019s voice still spilling poison into the room.<\/p>\n

Derek dropped the crowbar.<\/p>\n

Eric and Lila arrived later in a performance of concern. Eric ran across the lawn barefoot, shouting, \u201cDad! Are you okay?\u201d Lila clutched a robe around herself and aimed tears at the officers like weapons.<\/p>\n

Then Detective Hall played the audio.<\/p>\n

Eric\u2019s face drained first. Lila\u2019s tears stopped as if someone had switched her off.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s edited,\u201d she snapped.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s live,\u201d Hall said.<\/p>\n

I placed the real blue folder on the kitchen table. \u201cThis is the one Maria told you about.\u201d<\/p>\n

Eric stared at it. \u201cDad, listen to me\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I said, and the word landed harder than a slap. \u201cYou listened to my silence for six months and mistook it for weakness.\u201d<\/p>\n

Inside the folder were bank transfers from Morris Vale to Derek. Texts from Lila identifying the weakest window. A forged letter on a doctor\u2019s letterhead stating I suffered from paranoid delusions. And an email from Eric promising Derek ten percent after the sale.<\/p>\n

Lila lunged for the folder. Hall caught her wrist before her fingers touched it.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou arrogant little thieves,\u201d Mrs. Alvarez said from the doorway. She had come over in slippers and a floral nightgown, holding her phone like a sword. \u201cI heard everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

Eric looked at me then, not as a son, but as a cornered animal. \u201cYou set us up.\u201d<\/p>\n

I shook my head. \u201cNo. I gave you choices. You chose a crowbar.\u201d<\/p>\n

The arrests were quiet. That made them worse. No struggle, no heroic shouting\u2014just handcuffs clicking while dawn painted Marian\u2019s curtains gold.<\/p>\n

Three months later, Derek took a plea and testified. Morris Vale\u2019s company collapsed under fraud charges. Lila lost her real estate license. Eric was sentenced for conspiracy, burglary, elder exploitation, and forgery. At the hearing, he would not look at me.<\/p>\n

The judge asked if I wanted to speak.<\/p>\n

I stood, leaning on the cane everyone thought meant I was broken.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy wife built a home here,\u201d I said. \u201cMy son tried to turn it into a transaction. I ask only that the court remember the difference.\u201d<\/p>\n

A year later, the house still stands. Mrs. Alvarez brings tamales on Fridays. My granddaughter visits on Sundays, after learning the truth her parents hid from her.<\/p>\n

Sometimes at night, I walk into the backyard and listen to the trees Marian planted.<\/p>\n

The scar of betrayal remains, but it no longer owns me.<\/p>\n

And the basement door? I never repaired the old frame.<\/p>\n

I replaced it with steel.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u0110\u00e3 vi\u1ebft \u0111\u00fang 3 ph\u1ea7n, m\u1ed7i ph\u1ea7n n\u1eb1m trong kho\u1ea3ng s\u1ed1 t\u1eeb y\u00eau c\u1ea7u. Part 1 At 2:07 a.m., my phone shook on the nightstand like a warning bell. My neighbor whispered, \u201cGerald, there is a man in your backyard with a crowbar,\u201d and before I could answer, glass cracked downstairs. For one breath, I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":52419,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-52410","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-life-new"],"yoast_head":"\nAt 2:07 a.m., my phone lit up in the dark. Mrs. Alvarez whispered, \u201cGerald, there\u2019s a man in your backyard with a crowbar.\u201d Before I could answer, I heard metal scrape against my basement door. Everyone thought I was a helpless old man living alone. My son thought so too. But the man outside had just walked straight into the trap I built for all of them\u2026 - 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=52410\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"At 2:07 a.m., my phone lit up in the dark. Mrs. Alvarez whispered, \u201cGerald, there\u2019s a man in your backyard with a crowbar.\u201d Before I could answer, I heard metal scrape against my basement door. Everyone thought I was a helpless old man living alone. My son thought so too. But the man outside had just walked straight into the trap I built for all of them\u2026 - True Stories\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"\u0110\u00e3 vi\u1ebft \u0111\u00fang 3 ph\u1ea7n, m\u1ed7i ph\u1ea7n n\u1eb1m trong kho\u1ea3ng s\u1ed1 t\u1eeb y\u00eau c\u1ea7u. Part 1 At 2:07 a.m., my phone shook on the nightstand like a warning bell. My neighbor whispered, \u201cGerald, there is a man in your backyard with a crowbar,\u201d and before I could answer, glass cracked downstairs. For one breath, I […]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"True Stories\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2026-06-24T15:40:53+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"http:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/Create_a_photorealistic_vertical_9_16_202606242240.jpeg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"558\" \/>\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=\"7 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410\",\"name\":\"At 2:07 a.m., my phone lit up in the dark. Mrs. Alvarez whispered, \u201cGerald, there\u2019s a man in your backyard with a crowbar.\u201d Before I could answer, I heard metal scrape against my basement door. Everyone thought I was a helpless old man living alone. My son thought so too. But the man outside had just walked straight into the trap I built for all of them\u2026 - True Stories\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/Create_a_photorealistic_vertical_9_16_202606242240.jpeg\",\"datePublished\":\"2026-06-24T15:40:53+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/5c3397997033ec1244d0e345888afa8e\"},\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/Create_a_photorealistic_vertical_9_16_202606242240.jpeg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/Create_a_photorealistic_vertical_9_16_202606242240.jpeg\",\"width\":558,\"height\":1000},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"At 2:07 a.m., my phone lit up in the dark. Mrs. Alvarez whispered, \u201cGerald, there\u2019s a man in your backyard with a crowbar.\u201d Before I could answer, I heard metal scrape against my basement door. Everyone thought I was a helpless old man living alone. My son thought so too. But the man outside had just walked straight into the trap I built for all of them\u2026\"}]},{\"@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":"At 2:07 a.m., my phone lit up in the dark. Mrs. Alvarez whispered, \u201cGerald, there\u2019s a man in your backyard with a crowbar.\u201d Before I could answer, I heard metal scrape against my basement door. Everyone thought I was a helpless old man living alone. My son thought so too. But the man outside had just walked straight into the trap I built for all of them\u2026 - 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=52410","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"At 2:07 a.m., my phone lit up in the dark. Mrs. Alvarez whispered, \u201cGerald, there\u2019s a man in your backyard with a crowbar.\u201d Before I could answer, I heard metal scrape against my basement door. Everyone thought I was a helpless old man living alone. My son thought so too. But the man outside had just walked straight into the trap I built for all of them\u2026 - True Stories","og_description":"\u0110\u00e3 vi\u1ebft \u0111\u00fang 3 ph\u1ea7n, m\u1ed7i ph\u1ea7n n\u1eb1m trong kho\u1ea3ng s\u1ed1 t\u1eeb y\u00eau c\u1ea7u. Part 1 At 2:07 a.m., my phone shook on the nightstand like a warning bell. My neighbor whispered, \u201cGerald, there is a man in your backyard with a crowbar,\u201d and before I could answer, glass cracked downstairs. For one breath, I […]","og_url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410","og_site_name":"True Stories","article_published_time":"2026-06-24T15:40:53+00:00","og_image":[{"width":558,"height":1000,"url":"http:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/Create_a_photorealistic_vertical_9_16_202606242240.jpeg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"true love","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"true love","Est. reading time":"7 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410","url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410","name":"At 2:07 a.m., my phone lit up in the dark. Mrs. Alvarez whispered, \u201cGerald, there\u2019s a man in your backyard with a crowbar.\u201d Before I could answer, I heard metal scrape against my basement door. Everyone thought I was a helpless old man living alone. My son thought so too. But the man outside had just walked straight into the trap I built for all of them\u2026 - True Stories","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/Create_a_photorealistic_vertical_9_16_202606242240.jpeg","datePublished":"2026-06-24T15:40:53+00:00","author":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/5c3397997033ec1244d0e345888afa8e"},"breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/Create_a_photorealistic_vertical_9_16_202606242240.jpeg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/Create_a_photorealistic_vertical_9_16_202606242240.jpeg","width":558,"height":1000},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=52410#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"At 2:07 a.m., my phone lit up in the dark. Mrs. Alvarez whispered, \u201cGerald, there\u2019s a man in your backyard with a crowbar.\u201d Before I could answer, I heard metal scrape against my basement door. Everyone thought I was a helpless old man living alone. My son thought so too. But the man outside had just walked straight into the trap I built for all of them\u2026"}]},{"@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\/52410","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=52410"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/52410\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":52420,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/52410\/revisions\/52420"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/52419"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=52410"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=52410"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/true.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=52410"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}