{"id":2045,"date":"2026-05-23T05:42:04","date_gmt":"2026-05-23T05:42:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dailynewus.top\/?p=2045"},"modified":"2026-05-23T05:42:06","modified_gmt":"2026-05-23T05:42:06","slug":"a-stranger-took-a-picture-of-me-and-my-daughter-on-the-subway-the-next-day-he-knocked-on-my-door-and-said-pack-your-daughters-things-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dailynewus.top\/?p=2045","title":{"rendered":"A stranger took a picture of me and my daughter on the subway – The next day, he knocked on my door and said, “Pack your daughter’s things.”"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Being a single father wasn’t my dream. But it was the only thing I had left after everything else in my life seemed pointless, and I was going to fight for it if I had to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I work two jobs to maintain a cramped apartment that always smells like someone else’s dinner. I mop. I clean. I open the windows. But it still smells like curry, onions, or burnt toast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By day, I ride in a garbage truck or crawl into mud-filled holes with the city’s sanitation team.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Most nights, I can barely stand up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By day, I ride in a garbage truck or crawl into mud-filled holes with the city’s sanitation team.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Broken pipes, overflowing containers, burst pipes\u2026 we get it all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At night, I clean quiet downtown offices that smell of lemon and other people’s success, pushing a broom while screensavers bounce on giant, empty monitors.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The money appears, stays for a day, and then disappears again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But my six-year-old daughter, Lily, makes it all worthwhile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She remembers everything my tired brain has been forgetting lately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She is the reason my alarm goes off and I actually get up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother lives with us. Her mobility is limited and she relies on a cane, but she still braids Lily’s hair and prepares oatmeal as if it were a five-star hotel breakfast buffet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She remembers everything my tired brain has been forgetting lately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She knows which stuffed animal is up for this week, which classmate “has made a face”, what new ballet move has taken over our living room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because ballet isn’t just Lily’s hobby. It’s her language.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Watching her dance is like taking a walk in the open air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When she’s nervous, she points with her toes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When she’s happy, she spins around until she wobbles, laughing as if she has reinvented joy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Watching her dance is like walking outdoors.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Last spring, he saw a leaflet in the laundromat, stuck above the broken change machine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Small pink silhouettes, sparkles, “Ballet for beginners” written in large looped letters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She stared so intently that the dryers could have caught fire and she wouldn’t have noticed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then he looked at me as if he had just seen a nugget of gold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I read the price and my stomach clenched.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Dad, please,” she whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I read the price and my stomach clenched.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Those figures could very well have been written in another language.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But she kept staring, her fingers sticky from vending machine candy and her eyes huge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Dad,” he said again, more softly, as if he were afraid, “that’s my class.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I heard myself answer before I could think.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll do it.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I skipped lunches, I drank burnt coffee from our dying machine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Somehow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I went home, took an old envelope out of a drawer and wrote “LILY – BALLET” on the front with marker letters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Every shift, every crumpled bill or handful of change that survived the washing-up went inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I skipped lunches, drank burnt coffee from our dying machine, and told my stomach to stop complaining.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sleep was louder than my rumbling stomach most days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ballet studio looked like the inside of a cupcake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I didn’t lose sight of Lily, who entered that studio as if she had been born there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pink walls, glitter stickers, inspirational quotes on vinyl: “Dance with your heart”, “Jump and the net will appear”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The lobby was full of moms in leggings and dads with neat haircuts, all smelling of good soap and not a garbage truck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sat tiny in a corner, pretending I was invisible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had come directly from my route, still with a faint scent of banana peels and disinfectant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nobody said anything, but some parents gave me sideways glances, like people do with broken vending machines and guys asking for change.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I kept my gaze fixed on Lily, who entered that studio as if she had been born there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Dad, keep an eye on my arms.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If she fit in, I could handle it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For months, every afternoon after work, our living room became their personal stage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I pushed the wobbly coffee table against the wall while my mother sat on the sofa, her cane leaning against her side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lily stood in the center, her face serious enough to frighten me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Dad, keep an eye on my arms,” \u200b\u200bhe would order.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He had been awake since four o’clock, his legs whirring from dragging bags, but he kept his eyes fixed on her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I’m watching,” he told her, even as the room became blurry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So I watched as if it were my job.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother would elbow me in the ankle with her cane if I lowered my head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“You can sleep when she’s done,” he murmured.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So I watched as if it were my job.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The date of the recital was posted everywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Circled on the calendar, written on a sticky note on the fridge, on my phone with three alarms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Friday at 6:30 p.m.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No overtime, no shifts, no broken pipes should touch that time slot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That morning, she was at the door with her bag and her serious little face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lily carried her tiny bag of clothes around the apartment for a week, as if it were filled with delicate magic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That morning, she was at the door with her bag and her serious little face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hair already combed back, socks ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Promise me you’ll be there,” she said, as if she were checking my soul for cracks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I knelt down so we were at eye level and made it official.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I promise,” I said. “In the front row, cheering the loudest.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Finally she smiled, with that gap-toothed, unstoppable smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Main water pipe bursts near a construction site, flooding half a block, traffic going crazy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Good,” he said, and went to school half walking, half wandering around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For once I went to work floating instead of crawling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At two o’clock, however, the sky turned that heavy, furious gray that meteorologists pretend to be surprised by even though everyone feels it coming.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Around four in the afternoon, the dispatcher’s radio broadcast bad news.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Main water pipe bursts near a construction site, flooding half a block, traffic going crazy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We arrived with the truck and it was instant chaos: brown water in the street, horns blaring, someone filming instead of moving the car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At 5:50 I came out of the hole, soaked and shivering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I submerged myself, with my boots full and my pants soaked, thinking about 6:30 the whole time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My chest tightened every minute.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Five thirty arrived as we struggled with the hoses and cursed the rusty valves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At 5:50, I emerged from the hole, soaked and shivering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I have to go,” I shouted to my supervisor, grabbing my bag.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He frowned as if I had just suggested we let the water run forever and open a swimming pool.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“My daughter’s recital,” I said, with a lump in my throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I arrived at the subway just as the doors were closing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He stared at me for a moment and then shook his chin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Go,” he said. “Anyway, you’re no use here if you’ve lost your brain.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That was the nicest thing he could manage to say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I started running.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No time to change, no time to shower, just soaking wet boots hitting the cement and my heart trying to calm down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I arrived at the subway just as the doors were closing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

People were moving away from me on the train, wrinkling their noses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Inside, everything seemed smooth and polished.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I couldn’t blame them; I smelled like a flooded basement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I checked the time on my phone throughout the journey, anxious at every stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I finally arrived at the studio, I ran down the corridor, my lungs burning more than my legs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The doors of the auditorium enveloped me in perfumed air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Inside, everything seemed smooth and polished.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mothers with perfect curls, fathers with ironed shirts, children in impeccable suits.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I slid into a seat in the back, still breathing like I’d run a marathon through a swamp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For a second, he couldn’t find me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On stage, little ballerinas lined up, wearing pink tutus like flowers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lily moved closer to the light, blinking rapidly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His eyes searched among the rows.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For a second, he couldn’t find me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I saw how panic was reflected on her face, that small tense line her mouth makes when she holds back tears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then his gaze jumped to the back row and locked onto mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I raised my hand, dirty sleeve and all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When they bowed to the audience, I was already half in tears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His whole body relaxed as if he could finally exhale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She danced as if the stage were hers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Was she perfect?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He stumbled, turned wrong once, and stared at the girl next to him for a sign.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But her smile grew every time she turned, and I swear I could feel my heart trying to jump out of my chest clapping its hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When they bowed to the audience, I was already half in tears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I thought maybe you were stuck in the trash.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I pretended it was because of the dust, obviously.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Afterwards, I waited in the hallway with the other parents.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Glitter everywhere, little shoes clattering against the tiles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When Lily saw me, she rushed towards me, her tutu bouncing and her bun slightly crooked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“You’ve come!” he shouted, as if he had doubted it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He hit me in the chest with all his might, almost taking my breath away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I told you so,” I replied, my voice trembling violently.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Nothing would stop me from attending your show.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I searched and searched,” he whispered into my shirt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I thought maybe you were stuck in the trash.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I let out a laugh, which sounded more like a gasp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“They’d have to send an army,” I told him. “Nothing would stop me from attending your show.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He leaned back, studied my face, and finally relaxed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We took the cheap way home, the subway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the train, he talked nonstop for two stops, and then collapsed, suit and all, snuggling up against my chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That’s when I noticed the man a few seats down, watching.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her recital program crumpled in my fist, her little shoes hanging from my knee.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The reflection in the dark window showed a disheveled fellow holding the most precious thing in his world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I couldn’t stop staring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That’s when I noticed the man a few seats down, watching.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He looked to be about forty years old, had a good coat, and hair that clearly showed he’d been to a real barber.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It didn’t seem flashy, just\u2026 neat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fixed in a way I had never experienced before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Did you just take a picture of my daughter?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He kept looking at us, then he would look away, as if he were arguing with himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then he picked up the phone and pointed it in our direction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Anger woke me up faster than caffeine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Eh,” I said, keeping my voice low but high-pitched.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Did you just take a picture of my daughter?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The man remained motionless, his thumb on the screen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His eyes opened wide.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He started tapping as if his fingers were burning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I shouldn’t have done it.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He wasn’t defensive, he didn’t have a bad attitude, just a feeling of guilt so obvious that even I, half asleep, could see it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Delete it,” I told him. “Right now.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He started tapping as if his fingers were burning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He opened the photos, showed me the image, and deleted it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She opened the trash can and deleted it again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He turned the screen so he could see the empty gallery.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I just hugged Lily tighter until we stopped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“That’s it,” she said softly. “She’s gone.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stared for a few more seconds, my arms tightly wrapped around Lily, my pulse still racing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“You reached her,” he said. “That matters.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I didn’t answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I just hugged Lily tighter until we stopped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When we got out, I saw the doors closing and told myself that was it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The knock on the door was strong enough to make the cheap frame vibrate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just some rich guy, a strange interaction, end of story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The morning light in our kitchen always makes everything seem a little friendlier than it actually is.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was half awake, drinking horrible coffee, while Lily colored on the floor and my mother walked back and forth humming.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The knock on the door was strong enough to make the cheap frame vibrate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next blow was sharper, stronger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Are you waiting for someone?” my mother asked, her voice trembling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The third round of blows was as if someone were looking for money.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“No,” I said, already standing up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The third round of blows was as if someone were looking for money.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I opened the door with the chain still on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two men in dark, wide-legged security coats, and behind them, the guy from the train.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He said my name, carefully.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Mr. Anthony?” he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Pack Lily’s things.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Sir, you and your daughter have to come with us.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The world stopped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“What?” I managed to say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The big man took a step forward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Sir, you and your daughter have to come with us.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lily’s fingers dug into the back of my leg.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother appeared next to my shoulder, with her cane planted firmly in the ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Is that Child Protective Services? The police? What’s going on?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I need you to read what’s inside.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My heart tried to pierce my ribs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“No,” the man on the train said quickly, his hands raised. “That’s not it. I misspoke.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother looked at him as if she could knock him down with a single glance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Do you think so?” he snapped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He looked at Lily and something in his face opened up, all the polished calm vanished.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“My name is Graham,” he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He reached into his coat and pulled out a thick, elegant envelope with a silver-stamped logo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He slid the envelope through the crack in the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I need you to read what’s inside. Because Lily is the reason I’m here.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I didn’t move.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Pass it on,” I told him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wasn’t going to open the door again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He slid the envelope through the crack in the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I opened it just enough to take out the papers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thick letterhead, my name printed at the top.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Dad, next time you have to be there.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Words like “scholarship”, “residency”, “full support” jumped off the page.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then a photo slipped in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A girl, perhaps eleven years old, frozen mid-jump in a white dress, her legs perfectly stretched out, her face fierce and cheerful at the same time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He had the same tormented eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the back, in a serpentine script, it said:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Dad, next time you have to be there.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My throat closed up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I spent years missing recitals because of meetings.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Graham saw my face and nodded as if he already knew exactly where I had stopped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Her name was Emma,” he said softly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“My daughter. She was dancing before she could talk. I spent years missing recitals because of meetings.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Business trips, conference calls, always something more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His jaw hurt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“She got sick,” he said. “Fast. Aggressive. Suddenly, all the doctors were talking about options that weren’t really options.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He breathed in short gasps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Last night you ticked all the boxes.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I missed his second-to-last recital because I was in Tokyo closing a deal. I told myself I would make it up to him somehow at the next one.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was no next one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cancer doesn’t negotiate schedules.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He looked at Lily again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“The night before he died,” she said, “I promised him I would go see someone else’s daughter if her father was fighting to be there. He told me, ‘Look for the ones who smell of work but keep clapping loudly.'”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She let out a broken laugh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“You show up, you feel guilty, you throw money at us and disappear?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Last night you ticked all the boxes.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I didn’t know whether to cry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“What is this?” I asked, holding up the papers. “You show up, feel guilty, throw the money at us, and disappear?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He shook his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“No disappearing,” he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“What’s the trick?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“It’s the Emma Foundation. A full scholarship for Lily at our school. A better apartment, closer. A facilities manager job for you, day shift, benefits.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Words that belonged to other people’s lives.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mother narrowed her eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“What’s the catch?” he demanded to know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Graham stared at her, as if he had been practicing for that exact question.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“The only trick is for them to stop worrying about money so I can dance,” she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“And real dance floors. Teachers who know how to keep children safe.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“You keep working. She keeps working. We’ve just taken a weight off your shoulders.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lily tugged at my sleeve.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Dad,” she whispered, “do they have bigger mirrors?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That captivated me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Graham smiled carefully.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Huge mirrors,” he said. “And real dance floors. Teachers who know how to keep kids safe.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He nodded as if he were considering a serious business proposal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We spent the day touring the school and the building where I would be working.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I want to see him,” she said. “But only if Dad is there.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I felt that a decision was being formed with certainty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We spent the day touring the school and the building where I would be working.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The studios full of light, the children stretching on the bars, the teachers genuinely smiling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The job wasn’t glamorous, but it was stable, one place instead of two.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That night, after Lily fell asleep, my mother and I read every line of those contracts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Waiting for tricks that never actually appeared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I still get up early and smell like cleaning products, but I make it to all my classes, to all my recitals.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That was a year ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I still get up early and smell like cleaning products, but I make it to all my classes, to all my recitals.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lily dances more than ever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sometimes, watching her, I swear I can feel Emma applauding us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What do you think will happen to these characters next? Share your thoughts in the Facebook comments.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Being a single father wasn’t my dream. But it was the only thing I had left after everything else in my life seemed pointless, and I was… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2061,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2045","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailynewus.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2045","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailynewus.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailynewus.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailynewus.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailynewus.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2045"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/dailynewus.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2045\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2062,"href":"https:\/\/dailynewus.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2045\/revisions\/2062"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailynewus.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/2061"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailynewus.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2045"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailynewus.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2045"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailynewus.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2045"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}