![\"\"](\"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/10\/The-Hidden-Map-of-the-Frontier-300x169.png\")
<\/h1>\n<\/h1>\nBy sundown, the storm would bury the road behind her. By morning,<\/p>\n
she would understand why her father had spent his last breath sending her toward a ridge everyone called empty.<\/p>\n
She had buried Thomas Weaver eleven days earlier in Carson Flats.<\/p>\n
He was only forty-four,<\/p>\n
but a season of coughing had hollowed his face and stolen the strength from his hands.<\/p>\n
In the rented room above the feed store,<\/p>\n
he had pressed a folded square of oilcloth into her palm.<\/p>\n
His fingers were fever-warm and trembling.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you ever have nowhere else, Lizzy,\u201d he had whispered,<\/p>\n
\u201cgo to the ridge behind the third crate.\u201d<\/p>\n
He tried to explain, but the cough broke his words.<\/p>\n
By dawn, there was no one left to ask.<\/p>\n
Now she followed the faded map north on Juno,<\/p>\n
the mare her mother had once ridden.<\/p>\n
The paper showed three ridges, a dry wash, and a penciled cross.<\/p>\n
It named no mine, no well, no cabin.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth had studied it so often the ink seemed to float when she blinked.<\/p>\n
She had no money for a room and no family who could take her in.<\/p>\n
Dry Wells was the only place her father had named.<\/p>\n
The town sat beneath a hard white sky,<\/p>\n
a single street of weather-bleached storefronts and sagging porches.<\/p>\n
When Juno\u2019s hooves rang on the packed dirt, conversation stopped.<\/p>\n
Two women in bonnets whispered \u201cWeaver\u201d as Elizabeth passed.<\/p>\n
A boy on the horse trough stared. At the livery,<\/p>\n
the gray-bearded keeper let her pay a nickel for a stall that should have cost twice as much.<\/p>\n
He asked where she had come from, then looked away when she said Carson Flats.<\/p>\n
Inside the mercantile, the shopkeeper measured out cornmeal,<\/p>\n
beans, and a candle. Her name was Mrs.<\/p>\n
Bell, and her hands were strong from years of lifting flour sacks.<\/p>\n
When Elizabeth said her father was Thomas Weaver, Mrs.<\/p>\n
Bell\u2019s steady expression softened for a breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father came looking for something,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe left me a map to the north ridge.\u201d Mrs. Bell lowered her voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s nothing there.<\/p>\n
The Weaver claim has been a joke since before I was born.\u201d<\/p>\n
Three men entered before Elizabeth could answer.<\/p>\n
The tallest wore a pale waistcoat and a watch chain.<\/p>\n
He spoke as if the room belonged to him.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo Thomas\u2019s girl brought the old map back.\u201d His companion laughed.<\/p>\n
They said Thomas had left town poor and stubborn,<\/p>\n
unable to sell the claim even when James Hollister bought every other piece of the ridge.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth kept her eyes level and walked out while their<\/p>\n
laughter followed her into the street.<\/p>\n
The storm was gathering in the south,<\/p>\n
a dark wall with lightning stitching its belly.<\/p>\n
At the edge of town, Elizabeth unfolded the map again.<\/p>\n
She could turn around, but there was nowhere to return to.<\/p>\n
She could ride toward the ridge, as her father had asked.<\/p>\n
She chose the ridge.<\/p>\n
Near the saloon, the men came out to watch her pass.<\/p>\n
The one in the pale waistcoat, Royce, called the journey foolish.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth answered, \u201cMy father is dead.<\/p>\n
He can\u2019t be killed by that ridge.\u201d<\/p>\n
For an instant, Royce\u2019s smile vanished.<\/p>\n
Then James Hollister rode into the street on a bay with silver conchos.<\/p>\n
He was an older man with pale eyes and a voice so calm<\/p>\n
it made the watching men fall quiet.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll give you two hundred dollars for the claim,\u201d Hollister said.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd a stage ticket east. Your father knew there\u2019s no water up there.\u201d<\/p>\n
Elizabeth had less than a dollar.<\/p>\n
Two hundred dollars could buy safety, food, and a beginning.<\/p>\n
She looked at the map beneath her coat and heard her<\/p>\n
father\u2019s last broken words again. \u201cNo, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hollister studied her, then tipped his hat.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe offer stands until sundown tomorrow.\u201d He rode away.<\/p>\n
The liveryman watched the storm and told Elizabeth she<\/p>\n
had four hours before it reached the ridge.<\/p>\n
She saddled Juno herself and rode north.<\/p>\n
The wind rose as the land climbed. At the base of the ridge,<\/p>\n
the map led her into a dry wash where the rock folded inward.<\/p>\n
A fallen slab hid a narrow gap. She lit the candle and stepped through.<\/p>\n
The cleft opened into a chamber packed with rows of canvas-covered crates and old tins,<\/p>\n
all arranged with a care that made the cave feel less abandoned than guarded.<\/p>\n
On one lid, she found a date from forty years earlier.<\/p>\n
Thunder broke above the ridge. Elizabeth led Juno inside,<\/p>\n
tied her safely,<\/p>\n
and waited through the night while rain hammered the stone.<\/p>\n
At first light, she counted the crates.<\/p>\n
Some had been touched more recently than the others.<\/p>\n
A small W had been cut into the wall,<\/p>\n
followed by the year her father left Dry Wells.<\/p>\n
Farther inside, a shallow arrow pointed into darkness.<\/p>\n
She checked the opening for tracks,<\/p>\n
though the storm had swept the gravel clean.<\/p>\n
Only Juno\u2019s prints and her own crossed the wash.<\/p>\n
Inside, the candle showed no footprints, no fresh dust, no sign of a thief.<\/p>\n
The stillness unnerved her more than noise.<\/p>\n
Someone had guarded this place with patience.<\/p>\n
Maybe her father had stood here beside his own father,<\/p>\n
both of them knowing a secret too heavy for one generation to carry alone.<\/p>\n
She followed the arrow to a row of crates,<\/p>\n
then found the last one marked with another W.<\/p>\n
The chamber seemed to hold its breath around her.<\/p>\n
Her father\u2019s message came back, clear at last:<\/p>\n
not the third crate from the entrance, but the third from the far wall.<\/p>\n
She shifted the marked crate aside;<\/p>\n
an iron ring waited in the shadow there behind it.<\/p>\n
Please find Part 2 in the first comment.<\/p>\n
If Elizabeth\u2019s story has drawn you in,<\/p>\n
leave a kind word to encourage me to share the next part.<\/p>\n
Its iron ring was cold beneath her fingers. When she pulled,<\/p>\n
the hinges groaned,<\/p>\n
and a breath of air untouched by daylight swept across her face.<\/p>\n
The small chamber beyond held four iron-banded chests<\/p>\n
stenciled with the words UNITED STATES ARMY PAYROLL.<\/p>\n
Every chest stood open and empty. A pine table held a tin box,<\/p>\n
an oil-wrapped statement, and a cloth-bound ledger.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth opened the letters first.<\/p>\n
They described an autumn ambush forty-one years earlier:<\/p>\n
six soldiers killed on a road between a railhead and a fort,<\/p>\n
payroll stolen, strongboxes emptied into saddle bags.<\/p>\n
One letter named her grandfather as the rifleman guarding the canyon mouth.<\/p>\n
Another bore James Hollister\u2019s signature.<\/p>\n
His loops and slanted H matched the signature on the offer he had made her.<\/p>\n
Her father\u2019s statement said he had discovered the truth years ago.<\/p>\n
He had taken nothing.<\/p>\n
He had sealed the door and left the evidence for the<\/p>\n
person in the family who could carry it into daylight.<\/p>\n
The ledger recorded how Hollister turned the stolen money into cattle,<\/p>\n
pastures, and land.<\/p>\n
It also showed that Thomas had visited the cave eleven<\/p>\n
years before and chosen not to bury the truth again.<\/p>\n
As she read, the cave seemed to shrink around her.<\/p>\n
The empty payroll chests told her the stolen money was gone;<\/p>\n
the ledger showed where it had gone.<\/p>\n
Her grandfather had helped kill six soldiers,<\/p>\n
and Hollister had turned their wages into fences and cattle while the town praised him as a builder.<\/p>\n
Thomas had known that exposing his own father would stain the Weaver name,<\/p>\n
too. Still, he had returned and written it all down.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth pressed the statement to her chest, feeling grief and pride.<\/p>\n
Her father had not asked her to defend the family.<\/p>\n
He had asked her to tell the truth.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth wrapped the papers against her ribs.<\/p>\n
Before leaving, she hid the crate back in place.<\/p>\n
The storm had washed out a wagon track below the ridge.<\/p>\n
A widowed mother and her two children were stranded there;<\/p>\n
her boy, Micah, had a broken arm.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth brought them to an old line camp, set the boy\u2019s arm,<\/p>\n
and gave them shelter. Then she spotted two riders climbing toward them:<\/p>\n
Royce and another man, both armed.<\/p>\n
She walked down the ridge to meet them,<\/p>\n
leaving the family behind the stone wall with Juno.<\/p>\n
Royce demanded the paper. Elizabeth refused.<\/p>\n
He glanced toward the camp and warned that the children<\/p>\n
might suffer if she made trouble. Then came the sound of more horses.<\/p>\n
Five riders rounded the bend,<\/p>\n
led by a gray-bearded deputy marshal with a star on his coat.<\/p>\n
He looked straight at Elizabeth. \u201cMiss Weaver,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father sent word. We\u2019ve been waiting for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
If you want Part 3, like this story and comment \u201cJUSTICE\u201d below.<\/p>\n
Tell me what you think Hollister will say when he sees his ledger.<\/p>\n
parcel beneath her coat.<\/p>\n
She had carried it down from the ridge as if the papers<\/p>\n
were a stone placed against her heart. The marshal saw the movement,<\/p>\n
but did not ask her to show it there in the road.<\/p>\n
He only turned to the armed men. \u201cYou\u2019ll ride ahead of us, Mr.<\/p>\n
Royce,\u201d he said. \u201cHands on the pommel. No haste.\u201d<\/p>\n
Royce\u2019s mouth opened, then closed.<\/p>\n
His companion lowered his rifle across the saddle.<\/p>\n
The marshal\u2019s four riders spread out around them,<\/p>\n
and the road that had seemed so empty a moment earlier became a line of witnesses.<\/p>\n
The marshal introduced himself as Nathan Barrow.<\/p>\n
A letter from Thomas Weaver had reached his office eleven days before.<\/p>\n
It said his daughter would arrive in Dry Wells and asked<\/p>\n
Barrow to let her find the truth herself before he intervened.<\/p>\n
Thomas had enclosed no accusation,<\/p>\n
only a date and a request that the marshal be ready when the right evidence appeared.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe wanted you to come on your own feet,\u201d Barrow explained.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen he wanted the law to meet you at the road.\u201d<\/p>\n
Elizabeth looked at him. \u201cHe never told me he wrote.\u201d \u201cHe wouldn\u2019t have.<\/p>\n
He knew you\u2019d have enough to carry.\u201d She led him back to the line camp.<\/p>\n
The widow held her daughter close while Micah sat with<\/p>\n
his splinted arm against his chest.<\/p>\n
Barrow promised to send a wagon within the hour and a<\/p>\n
doctor as soon as they reached town. The woman\u2019s eyes filled.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth told her not to thank her yet.<\/p>\n
The road south still needed to be crossed.<\/p>\n
Micah lifted his good hand in a small wave.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth answered with one of her own.<\/p>\n
Then she mounted Juno and rode behind the marshal\u2019s men,<\/p>\n
with Royce and his companion in front of them.<\/p>\n
The parcel pressed against her ribs with every step of the mare.<\/p>\n
Dry Wells had gathered in its doorways.<\/p>\n
The boy from the trough no longer ran to spread the news.<\/p>\n
Mrs. Bell stood outside the mercantile, fingers twisting her apron.<\/p>\n
The liveryman had taken off his hat.<\/p>\n
The old woman in the dark shawl sat on her bench,<\/p>\n
her silver cross bright against the wool.<\/p>\n
No one laughed as Elizabeth rode past.<\/p>\n
At the county clerk\u2019s office, Barrow helped her down and led her inside.<\/p>\n
Mr. Henshaw, the clerk, recognized Thomas\u2019s handwriting at once.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth placed the ledger, letters, and statement on the desk.<\/p>\n
Henshaw read the first pages in silence. Then he turned to Barrow.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s Hollister\u2019s hand,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve seen it on notes for thirty years.\u201d<\/p>\n
Barrow opened the letters and read them carefully.<\/p>\n
The papers described the robbery, the six soldiers who died,<\/p>\n
and Hollister\u2019s plan to use the stolen payroll to buy land through intermediaries.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth\u2019s grandfather had helped him.<\/p>\n
Her father had learned what the family name concealed<\/p>\n
and had spent decades deciding what to do with it.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you know what you brought us?\u201d Barrow asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe truth about my grandfather,\u201d Elizabeth said.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd about the man who used him.\u201d Henshaw looked up from the ledger.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father\u2019s account says he took nothing from the chests.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe didn\u2019t.\u201d \u201cAnd he kept the evidence all those years?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe kept it because he thought someone should have to answer for those men.\u201d<\/p>\n
Barrow nodded. \u201cThen someone will.\u201d<\/p>\n
He sent a boy to ask Hollister to come to the office.<\/p>\n
The request was courteous and carried no threat.<\/p>\n
Everyone in Dry Wells knew the marshal did not need to threaten him.<\/p>\n
The boy returned with Hollister less than an hour later.<\/p>\n
Hollister arrived on his tall bay, alone.<\/p>\n
He tied the horse himself and entered without knocking.<\/p>\n
His pale eyes went first to the ledger, then to Elizabeth.<\/p>\n
For the first time since she had met him,<\/p>\n
the calm in his face looked less like authority than exhaustion.<\/p>\n
\u201cI would like to sit down,\u201d he said. Henshaw brought a chair.<\/p>\n
Hollister settled his hat on his knee and studied the old book.<\/p>\n
Barrow asked whether the ledger was his. \u201cIt is,\u201d Hollister said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou kept it?\u201d \u201cA man ought to keep his own count.\u201d<\/p>\n
The words landed heavily in the small room.<\/p>\n
Hollister had saved every entry\u2014every purchase, every claim,<\/p>\n
every pasture bought with money taken from the dead.<\/p>\n
Perhaps he had believed the ledger would prove his genius.<\/p>\n
Perhaps the habit of counting had outlasted every excuse he had made.<\/p>\n
He turned to Elizabeth.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father was a better man than his father,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd a better man than me.\u201d Elizabeth held his gaze. \u201cHe knew that.<\/p>\n
That\u2019s why he came back.\u201d Hollister looked down at the hat on his knee.<\/p>\n
He did not answer. Barrow stood and opened the door.<\/p>\n
Two of his deputies waited outside. \u201cMr.<\/p>\n
Hollister, if you\u2019ll come with us.\u201d The older man rose.<\/p>\n
He placed his hat on his head and adjusted the brim with<\/p>\n
the precise gesture of someone who had done it thousands<\/p>\n
of times. Then he walked out ahead of the marshal.<\/p>\n
The town watched from its porches.<\/p>\n
Royce and his companion were already in custody.<\/p>\n
Men who had laughed the day before stepped back into the<\/p>\n
saloon and shut the door. Mrs. Bell wept quietly.<\/p>\n
The liveryman held his hat against his chest.<\/p>\n
The old woman closed her eyes with one hand resting on her cross.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth came down the clerk\u2019s steps.<\/p>\n
The liveryman lifted his hat toward her.<\/p>\n
That small gesture undid the last of her composure.<\/p>\n
Her eyes filled, though she did not let the tears fall.<\/p>\n
She had cried beside her father\u2019s bed.<\/p>\n
She did not need to cry for the town\u2019s approval.<\/p>\n
The weeks that followed were slow.<\/p>\n
The territorial office examined the ledger and letters.<\/p>\n
Surveyors went to the ridge, documented the hidden chamber,<\/p>\n
and sealed its inner door. The stolen payroll had been spent long ago,<\/p>\n
but the record of where it went was clear.<\/p>\n
The six soldiers\u2019 families were found through the fort\u2019s old rolls.<\/p>\n
Some had died;<\/p>\n
others had children and grandchildren who had never known why their fathers had not returned.<\/p>\n
The hearing opened in the county room three weeks later.<\/p>\n
There were no benches enough for everyone,<\/p>\n
so townspeople stood along the walls and outside the open windows. Mr.<\/p>\n
Henshaw read the ledger aloud, entry after entry,<\/p>\n
naming the dates Hollister bought cattle and land.<\/p>\n
Then he read the letters about the ambush.<\/p>\n
The room stayed still except for the clerk\u2019s voice and the scrape of a chair.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth sat in the front row with her hands folded,<\/p>\n
listening to her grandfather\u2019s name spoken beside the names of the six soldiers who had died.<\/p>\n
Royce tried to say he had known nothing of the robbery.<\/p>\n
Barrow laid out the signed letters and asked why he had<\/p>\n
threatened Elizabeth for the parcel.<\/p>\n
Royce looked toward Hollister, waiting for him to rescue him.<\/p>\n
Hollister did not. At last,<\/p>\n
Royce admitted he had been sent to frighten her into surrendering the claim.<\/p>\n
His voice shrank as he spoke.<\/p>\n
The men who had laughed with him kept their eyes on the floor. Mrs.<\/p>\n
Bell sat behind Elizabeth, her apron folded neatly over her knees,<\/p>\n
while the liveryman stood at the doorway with his hat in both hands.<\/p>\n
Hollister listened to every page without interrupting.<\/p>\n
When the clerk finished, Barrow asked him whether he denied the ledger.<\/p>\n
Hollister said no. Asked whether he had ordered the ambush,<\/p>\n
he stared through the window at the ridge and answered,<\/p>\n
\u201cI chose the place. I gave the order. I spent what we took.\u201d<\/p>\n
He did not ask for mercy. He did not ask Elizabeth to forgive him.<\/p>\n
That honesty did not undo what he had done,<\/p>\n
but it gave the court a clear record.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth wondered if he had kept the book because some<\/p>\n
part of him had known that one day the truth would have<\/p>\n
to be written down.<\/p>\n
Barrow sent the case to the territorial office for review.<\/p>\n
Thomas\u2019s statement confirmed that the Weavers had never taken a dollar.<\/p>\n
The judge recognized Elizabeth\u2019s ridge claim and ordered<\/p>\n
the hidden chamber sealed.<\/p>\n
He promised any recovered property would go to the soldiers\u2019 families.<\/p>\n
After the hearing,<\/p>\n
a woman whose grandfather had served at the fort approached Elizabeth.<\/p>\n
She held a folded letter from her mother and asked if<\/p>\n
the six names could be sent to the families.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth promised they would.<\/p>\n
After the room emptied, Elizabeth stayed by the window.<\/p>\n
Barrow placed Thomas\u2019s letter beside her.<\/p>\n
It held no confession, only a line asking that she be trusted.<\/p>\n
She folded it, understanding her father had planned for justice,<\/p>\n
but not for the life she would build afterward.<\/p>\n
A wagon carried the widow and her children south.<\/p>\n
A doctor confirmed Micah\u2019s arm would heal. Before she left,<\/p>\n
the woman grasped Elizabeth\u2019s hands and said,<\/p>\n
\u201cYou gave us a place to wait out the storm.\u201d<\/p>\n
Elizabeth looked at the boy\u2019s sling. \u201cYour son was brave.\u201d<\/p>\n
Micah leaned from the wagon and waved. \u201cGoodbye, Miss Weaver.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRide easy,\u201d Elizabeth replied.<\/p>\n
Hollister was taken east, with his sentence still undecided. He was old,<\/p>\n
and the men who had died were long in their graves,<\/p>\n
but his own ledger made it impossible to pretend the robbery had never happened.<\/p>\n
The court ordered the land still traceable to the<\/p>\n
payroll returned or sold for restitution.<\/p>\n
Hollister was not hanged, but he never came back to Dry Wells.<\/p>\n
His silver-trimmed saddle hung unsold in the livery for years.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth\u2019s claim to the ridge was confirmed. She refused to sell it.<\/p>\n
She took only enough from the recovered holdings to buy a modest plank house behind the mercantile,<\/p>\n
a small corral, and supplies for Juno.<\/p>\n
The rest went toward the families the robbery had left behind.<\/p>\n
She began working for Mrs. Bell, weighing beans, cutting cloth,<\/p>\n
and learning the names of every child who came in for a penny\u2019s worth of candy.<\/p>\n
The liveryman kept Juno\u2019s stall without charge.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father\u2019s girl,\u201d he said when Elizabeth tried to pay him.<\/p>\n
She knew he had seen Thomas ride away from Dry Wells long ago,<\/p>\n
and she understood that his kindness had waited nearly as long as the cave.<\/p>\n
The old woman on the bench died the following year.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth helped carry her to the small churchyard<\/p>\n
beneath the leaning steeple. At the graveside, Mrs.<\/p>\n
Bell rested a hand on Elizabeth\u2019s shoulder.<\/p>\n
Neither woman tried to make grief tidy with words.<\/p>\n
On an evening in autumn, Elizabeth rode Juno to a low rise above town.<\/p>\n
The ridge stood quiet, its hidden door sealed behind stone and crate and dust.<\/p>\n
Dry Wells lay below, small against the open land.<\/p>\n
Its people were still plain and imperfect,<\/p>\n
but they no longer laughed when someone spoke the Weaver name.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth rested a hand on Juno\u2019s warm shoulder.<\/p>\n
She thought of her father in the rented room, fighting for breath,<\/p>\n
trying to give her a message that was larger than a map.<\/p>\n
She had thought he was sending her to a place.<\/p>\n
Now she understood he had sent her to a choice.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t come for silver,\u201d she whispered into the evening wind.<\/p>\n
\u201cI came to carry what you couldn\u2019t.\u201d Juno flicked one ear.<\/p>\n
The last light rested on the ridge, then slipped away.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth gathered the reins and turned toward the lamps of town,<\/p>\n
where a warm room, a waiting supper,<\/p>\n
and the next morning\u2019s work were hers to meet.<\/p>\n
Her inheritance had not been gold or a secret chamber.<\/p>\n
It was the chance to tell the truth, to protect strangers,<\/p>\n
and to leave a name cleaner than she had found it.<\/p>\n
For the first time since her father died,<\/p>\n
the road ahead did not look like something she had to endure alone.<\/p>\n
This story is entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only.<\/p>\n
It does not represent any organization or individual,<\/p>\n
nor does it encourage inappropriate behavior.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Part 1 The town laughed when eighteen-year-old Elizabeth Weaver rode into Dry Wells with her dead father\u2019s map, a gray mare, and fifty-nine cents. By sundown, the storm would bury … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":12042,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12041","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama-sory"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12041","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12041"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12041\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12043,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12041\/revisions\/12043"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/12042"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12041"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12041"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12041"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}