{"id":60955,"date":"2026-05-13T12:08:10","date_gmt":"2026-05-13T12:08:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955"},"modified":"2026-05-13T12:11:58","modified_gmt":"2026-05-13T12:11:58","slug":"the-bullet-grazed-my-lip-before-it-took-my-pregnant-aunts-life-and-as-i-hid-in-the-grass-i-saw-my-father-hunting-us-like-prey-he-claimed-he-did-it-for-family-but-the-chilling-phone-re","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955","title":{"rendered":"The bullet grazed my lip before it took my pregnant aunt\u2019s life, and as I hid in the grass, I saw my father hunting us like prey. He claimed he did it for “family,” but the chilling phone records we found later proved something much more sinister."},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

Part 1<\/h2>\n

My name is Jere, and the last thing I remember before the world turned into a screaming blur of gunpowder and glass was the smell of charcoal and my mom\u2019s laughter. It was Labor Day at the park, the kind of afternoon that\u2019s supposed to be a postcard of American life\u2014church folks singing, kids running through sprinklers, and the heavy scent of BBQ ribs in the air. But the postcard ripped in half the second my father, Jason, stepped out from behind a line of oak trees. He didn’t look like the man who used to tuck me in; he looked like a storm that had finally touched ground.<\/p>\n

“Get in the car, Norbert! Move, now!” my aunt Mercedes screamed, her voice cracking with a terror I\u2019d never heard. She was seven months pregnant, her hand protectively over her stomach as she shoved me into the backseat of our SUV. My uncle Norbert scrambled into the driver\u2019s side, his face pale as a sheet. We weren’t just leaving a picnic; we were escaping a predator. Two months ago, Mercedes had rescued me from the house after Jason lost his mind on my mom. He hadn’t forgiven her for “stealing” his son. He\u2019d been stewing in that basement apartment of his, feeding on resentment until it turned into something lethal.<\/p>\n

As Norbert cranked the engine, Jason didn’t run. He marched. He reached into his waistband and pulled out a heavy, black semi-automatic. He stepped directly in front of the moving car, his eyes locked onto Mercedes. I saw his finger tighten on the trigger. Crack.<\/i> The windshield spider-webbed. I felt a searing, white-hot sting across my lip\u2014a bullet had grazed me by millimeters. Then, the second shot roared, much louder this time. I watched, paralyzed, as my aunt\u2019s head snapped back, her grip on the seat loosening as blood began to bloom like a dark rose across her neck. The SUV lurched into a tree, the engine whining in a high-pitched death rattle. Jason wasn’t finished. He ignored me, ignored the screaming crowd, and began walking toward the driver\u2019s side where Norbert was frantically trying to unbuckle his seatbelt. Jason\u2019s face was a mask of cold, calculated stone as he raised the gun again, right at my uncle\u2019s chest.<\/p>\n

The echoes of the first shots hadn’t even faded before the real nightmare began. My father wasn’t just there for revenge; he was there to erase everything Mercedes loved, and Norbert was next on his list. The blood on my face was just the beginning of a day that would shatter our family forever. The rest of the story is below \ud83d\udc47<\/p>\n

\n

Part 2<\/h2>\n

The world went silent for a heartbeat, that ringing, high-pitched vacuum of sound that follows a gunshot. I sat in the backseat, blood dripping from my lip onto my Sunday shirt, watching my father\u2019s silhouette through the shattered glass. Norbert managed to kick his door open. He didn’t run away from the car; he ran toward the public restrooms, trying to draw Jason\u2019s fire away from me and the dying Mercedes. It worked. Jason let out a guttural roar, a sound more animal than human, and took off after him.<\/p>\n

I scrambled out of the wreck, my legs feeling like jelly. “Auntie! Mercedes!” I choked out, reaching for her. She was slumped over the center console, her breathing coming in ragged, wet gasps. Her eyes were open, but she wasn’t seeing me. She was looking at something far away, her hands still feebly clutching her pregnant belly. The church members were scattered, some diving behind picnic tables, others screaming into their cell phones. I felt a hand grab my shoulder\u2014it was an older deacon from the church\u2014pulling me toward the bushes. “Stay down, son! Stay down!”<\/p>\n

But I couldn’t. I heard the heavy thud-thud-thud<\/i> of Jason\u2019s boots hitting the concrete floor of the restroom pavilion. Then, two more shots. Pop. Pop.<\/i> They sounded so small for something that ended a life. A moment later, Jason emerged. He wasn’t running. He walked with a terrifying, calm swagger, reloading his magazine as if he were at a firing range. He looked toward the bushes where we were hiding, and for a second, our eyes locked. I expected to see regret. I expected to see the father who used to take me to baseball games. Instead, I saw a void.<\/p>\n

He started toward us, but the distant wail of sirens began to cut through the park\u2019s trees. Jason paused, spat on the ground, and turned, disappearing into the thicket of the residential neighborhood bordering the park. The police arrived in a whirlwind of dust and blue light, but for Mercedes, the clock was already at zero. Paramedics swarmed the car. I watched them pull her out, her floral dress soaked in crimson. “We have a pulse! We have a fetal heartbeat!” one of them yelled. They loaded her into the ambulance, the tires screeching as they raced toward the hospital.<\/p>\n

I was shoved into the back of a squad car for protection. As we drove out, I saw them wheeling a black bag out of the men\u2019s room. Norbert. He had died in a bathroom stall, cornered like an animal by the man who was supposed to be his brother-in-law. My heart was a drum in my ears. I kept thinking about the baby\u2014the cousin I was supposed to play with.<\/p>\n

The twist came three hours later at the station. A detective sat across from me, his face etched with a pity that made me want to scream. He told me they had caught Jason hiding in a crawlspace three blocks away. He hadn’t resisted. In fact, he had laughed. But then the detective dropped the bomb. Jason hadn’t just snapped because of the custody dispute. He\u2019d been planning this for weeks, and he\u2019d had help. My father\u2019s phone records showed a series of calls to a burner phone\u2014calls that traced back to a member of our own family who had been feeding him Mercedes’ schedule, telling him exactly when the church picnic would be. We weren’t just victims of a madman; we were victims of a betrayal that went deeper than I ever imagined.<\/p>\n

As the news filtered in from the hospital, the weight of the day grew even heavier. The surgeons had performed an emergency C-section. For a brief, shining moment, there was a miracle. The baby girl was alive. They named her Hope. I sat in that cold plastic chair, praying that at least one part of Mercedes would survive this massacre. But as the sun began to set over the city, the detective\u2019s phone buzzed again. He looked at it, closed his eyes, and leaned back. The silence in the room told me everything I needed to know before he even opened his mouth.<\/p>\n

If you’ve read this far, don’t hesitate to leave a like and comment before reading part 3. It makes us as happy as reading a complete story! Thank you. \ud83d\udc4d\u2764\ufe0f<\/p>\n

\n

Part 3<\/h2>\n

The detective\u2019s voice was barely a whisper. “The baby… she didn’t make it, Jere. One hour. She fought for one hour.”<\/p>\n

Hope was gone. Mercedes was gone. Norbert was gone. Three generations of my family snuffed out because one man couldn’t handle his own failures. The “help” my father had received? It turned out to be my own mother\u2019s brother, an uncle who held a grudge against Norbert over an old debt. He had pointed the monster right at our hearts, never imagining Jason would go that far. The betrayal felt like a second bullet, just as sharp as the one that had grazed my lip.<\/p>\n

The trial was a blur of black robes and weeping relatives. I had to stand on that witness stand, looking at the man who gave me life, and describe how he took everyone else\u2019s. Jason sat there in his orange jumpsuit, shackled at the wrists and ankles, looking bored. He didn’t look like a villain from a movie; he looked like a pathetic, small man who had burned down a forest because he was cold. When the judge read the sentence\u2014three consecutive life terms without the possibility of parole, plus eight years for what he did to me\u2014Jason didn’t flinch. He just nodded, as if he\u2019d won a prize.<\/p>\n

But the real story isn’t about the killer. It\u2019s about what\u2019s left behind.<\/p>\n

After the trial, I went back to that park. It was a quiet Tuesday. The bloodstains on the restroom floor were gone, scrubbed away by high-pressure hoses and bleach. The tree the SUV hit had a scar on its bark, but new leaves were growing. I sat on the same bench where we\u2019d been eating watermelon just minutes before the shooting. I realized then that my father hadn’t just killed three people; he\u2019d tried to kill the very idea of safety, the idea of family.<\/p>\n

I looked at my reflection in a puddle\u2014the scar on my lip was a thin, white line now. A permanent reminder. I thought about Mercedes and the way she\u2019d pushed me down to save me. I thought about Norbert running to draw the fire. They didn’t die as victims; they died as protectors. My father thought he was the most powerful person in that park because he had a gun, but he was the weakest. He was the only one who left that day with nothing.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m older now. I work with kids who have seen things no child should see. Every time I look at a kid who\u2019s scared, I see myself in that backseat. I tell them that the darkness can’t win if you keep the light of the people you lost alive. We buried Mercedes with her baby in her arms, a mother and child who never got to say hello or goodbye in the light of day. Our family is smaller now, quieter, and the holidays are always a little heavy with the scent of what might have been.<\/p>\n

But as I walked away from the park that day, I didn’t look back. Jason is rotting in a concrete box in upstate New York, forgotten by the world. But Mercedes, Norbert, and little Hope? They live in every breath I take, in every word I speak, and in the fact that despite everything he tried to do, I am still here. The cycle of violence stopped with him. The healing started with me.<\/p>\n

What do you think of this story? Please leave a like and share your thoughts in the comments. Your support means a lot to us and inspires us to keep writing more meaningful and powerful stories. Thank you! \ud83d\udc4d\u2764\ufe0f<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Part 1 My name is Jere, and the last thing I remember before the world turned into a screaming blur of gunpowder and glass was the smell of charcoal and my mom\u2019s laughter. It was Labor Day at the park, the kind of afternoon that\u2019s supposed to be a postcard of American life\u2014church folks singing, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":60958,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-60955","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-purpose"],"yoast_head":"\nThe bullet grazed my lip before it took my pregnant aunt\u2019s life, and as I hid in the grass, I saw my father hunting us like prey. He claimed he did it for "family," but the chilling phone records we found later proved something much more sinister. - Purposeful Days<\/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:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The bullet grazed my lip before it took my pregnant aunt\u2019s life, and as I hid in the grass, I saw my father hunting us like prey. He claimed he did it for "family," but the chilling phone records we found later proved something much more sinister. - Purposeful Days\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Part 1 My name is Jere, and the last thing I remember before the world turned into a screaming blur of gunpowder and glass was the smell of charcoal and my mom\u2019s laughter. It was Labor Day at the park, the kind of afternoon that\u2019s supposed to be a postcard of American life\u2014church folks singing, […]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Purposeful Days\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2026-05-13T12:08:10+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2026-05-13T12:11:58+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/tai-xuong-2026-05-13T191144.612.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"571\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"571\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"purpose true\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"purpose true\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"8 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955\",\"name\":\"The bullet grazed my lip before it took my pregnant aunt\u2019s life, and as I hid in the grass, I saw my father hunting us like prey. He claimed he did it for \\\"family,\\\" but the chilling phone records we found later proved something much more sinister. - Purposeful Days\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/tai-xuong-2026-05-13T191144.612.jpg\",\"datePublished\":\"2026-05-13T12:08:10+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2026-05-13T12:11:58+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/8783f12fcf24b2f3203d550722d57e0a\"},\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/tai-xuong-2026-05-13T191144.612.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/tai-xuong-2026-05-13T191144.612.jpg\",\"width\":571,\"height\":571},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"The bullet grazed my lip before it took my pregnant aunt\u2019s life, and as I hid in the grass, I saw my father hunting us like prey. He claimed he did it for “family,” but the chilling phone records we found later proved something much more sinister.\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/\",\"name\":\"Purposeful Days\",\"description\":\"\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/8783f12fcf24b2f3203d550722d57e0a\",\"name\":\"purpose true\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/311b99b03b9df64c75e9364ec478f537fdeab67bf8add124c69fac49517fcec6?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/311b99b03b9df64c75e9364ec478f537fdeab67bf8add124c69fac49517fcec6?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"caption\":\"purpose true\"},\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=4\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"The bullet grazed my lip before it took my pregnant aunt\u2019s life, and as I hid in the grass, I saw my father hunting us like prey. He claimed he did it for \"family,\" but the chilling phone records we found later proved something much more sinister. - Purposeful Days","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:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"The bullet grazed my lip before it took my pregnant aunt\u2019s life, and as I hid in the grass, I saw my father hunting us like prey. He claimed he did it for \"family,\" but the chilling phone records we found later proved something much more sinister. - Purposeful Days","og_description":"Part 1 My name is Jere, and the last thing I remember before the world turned into a screaming blur of gunpowder and glass was the smell of charcoal and my mom\u2019s laughter. It was Labor Day at the park, the kind of afternoon that\u2019s supposed to be a postcard of American life\u2014church folks singing, […]","og_url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955","og_site_name":"Purposeful Days","article_published_time":"2026-05-13T12:08:10+00:00","article_modified_time":"2026-05-13T12:11:58+00:00","og_image":[{"width":571,"height":571,"url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/tai-xuong-2026-05-13T191144.612.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"purpose true","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"purpose true","Est. reading time":"8 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955","name":"The bullet grazed my lip before it took my pregnant aunt\u2019s life, and as I hid in the grass, I saw my father hunting us like prey. He claimed he did it for \"family,\" but the chilling phone records we found later proved something much more sinister. - Purposeful Days","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/tai-xuong-2026-05-13T191144.612.jpg","datePublished":"2026-05-13T12:08:10+00:00","dateModified":"2026-05-13T12:11:58+00:00","author":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/8783f12fcf24b2f3203d550722d57e0a"},"breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/tai-xuong-2026-05-13T191144.612.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/tai-xuong-2026-05-13T191144.612.jpg","width":571,"height":571},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=60955#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"The bullet grazed my lip before it took my pregnant aunt\u2019s life, and as I hid in the grass, I saw my father hunting us like prey. He claimed he did it for “family,” but the chilling phone records we found later proved something much more sinister."}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/","name":"Purposeful Days","description":"","potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/8783f12fcf24b2f3203d550722d57e0a","name":"purpose true","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/311b99b03b9df64c75e9364ec478f537fdeab67bf8add124c69fac49517fcec6?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/311b99b03b9df64c75e9364ec478f537fdeab67bf8add124c69fac49517fcec6?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"purpose true"},"url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=4"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/60955","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=60955"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/60955\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":60957,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/60955\/revisions\/60957"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/60958"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=60955"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=60955"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=60955"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}