{"id":4603,"date":"2025-08-17T15:32:30","date_gmt":"2025-08-17T14:32:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/time.amazingstory.blog\/?p=4603"},"modified":"2025-08-17T15:32:32","modified_gmt":"2025-08-17T14:32:32","slug":"during-my-wedding-a-strange-woman-who-looked-like-my-carbon-copy-walked-into-the-hall-holding-an-old-photo-album","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/time.amazingstory.blog\/?p=4603","title":{"rendered":"During My Wedding, a Strange Woman Who Looked Like My Carbon Copy Walked Into the Hall Holding an Old Photo Album"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

On her wedding day, Amara finally feels like she belongs, until a woman walks in, looking exactly like her. As Amara learns a truth she never imagined, she learns the heartbreaking reason for their separation. Thereafter, she\u2019s forced to face love, loss, and the cruel reality of time running out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The smell of fresh roses and vanilla buttercream filled the air. If weddings had a smell, this would be it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The wedding hall glowed with the soft and romantic charm I had been dreaming of for months. Laughter rippled through the space, glasses clinked, and somewhere in the background, the faint hum of a string quartet played a melody so delicately perfect, it felt like I was still in my dreams.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A beautiful wedding cake | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My dream.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had spent my whole life longing for this. A home, a family, and a place where I belonged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And today?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I would finally have it.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I smoothed my hand over the embroidered lace of my gown, the fabric cool and delicate beneath my fingertips. My wedding ring glinted as the sunlight touched it. A quiet warmth bloomed in my chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had made it.<\/em> I was no longer just<\/em> Amara. I was no longer the orphan girl bouncing from one foster home to another. I was someone\u2019s wife<\/em>. I was someone\u2019s person<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Loved. Chosen. Finally home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I spun under the twinkling lights, laughter bubbling from my lips as my father-in-law twirled me across the dance floor. My heart was light, my world bursting with color.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And then\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A bride dancing with her father-in-law | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The doors swung open, and a hush fell over the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My feet stilled. The music faded into the background, swallowed by a silence so thick I felt it press against my skin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A woman stood in the doorway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her dress was loose, falling around her frame in a way that suggested it had once fit differently. Dirt smeared the hem, her shoes were scuffed, and her dark hair hung loose and tangled around her shoulders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A woman holding an album | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But it was her face that made my blood run cold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She looked exactly like me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not just similar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not just a passing resemblance. She was me, but older.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A perfect carbon copy, standing frozen in the entrance of my wedding, clutching a worn, battered photo album against her chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tears streamed down her face when she locked eyes with me. Her lips trembled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A shocked bride | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHi,\u201d she said in a shaky whisper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My breath caught. The world swayed beneath me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I felt my father-in-law\u2019s hand tighten around mine, steadying me. I barely noticed when my husband, Jonathan, took over from his father, keeping me grounded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho\u2026 who are you?\u201d I asked, swallowing hard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My throat was dry, and my pulse hammered so hard that it actually hurt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A close up of a groom | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woman\u2019s grip tightened on the photo album. Her fingers trembled as she took another step closer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy name is Alice. I\u2019m your sister,\u201d she said. \u201cAnd I need to tell you the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Somehow, we found our way to a small side room, away from the eyes and whispers of the guests. The moment the door shut, I turned to face her, my body rigid, my mind still trying to make sense of what was happening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re lying. You\u2019re lying about being my sister,\u201d I said, even though something in me, something deep, already knew she wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A dressing room | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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

\u201cI wish I was, little one,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With shaking hands, she opened the photo album and flipped through its worn pages.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I didn\u2019t want to look, but I did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The pictures were old, the edges curled and yellowing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"An<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

An old album on a table | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A man and woman, young, beaming. The woman held a newborn baby, and almost hiding between the man\u2019s legs was a toddler. A little girl, no older than five.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A family of four.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And then, nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The photos after that only had her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2026 I don\u2019t remember any of this,\u201d I said, my chest caving in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A bride looking through an album | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course, you don\u2019t, Amara,\u201d she said, her voice soft and comforting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I tore my gaze away, my throat thick with emotion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy? Why was I left?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alice hesitated. She closed the album carefully, running her hand over its cover like it was something sacred.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen I was thirteen,\u201d she said slowly, \u201cI found this album in the attic. I asked our aunt about it\u2026 and she told me everything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A woman sitting on a chair | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I couldn\u2019t breathe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAunt?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alice nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOur parents\u2026\u201d Her voice hitched, but she swallowed hard and kept going. \u201cThey were struggling, Amara. Badly. My\u2026 our dad lost his job. Mom was sick, too. And then one day, they made a decision.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She looked at me, tears glistening in her eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A sick woman laying in bed | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey left you at an orphanage,\u201d she whispered. \u201cThey thought they couldn\u2019t raise you. And someone told them that there was a better chance of newborns being adopted quickly. That it was better for you to grow up with someone who could. They kept me around, but Aunt Maddie took me in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Something inside me seemed to crack wide open.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I pressed a hand to my chest, as if that would keep me from shattering completely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alice wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"An<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI wanted to find you,\u201d she said. \u201cI swear I did. But I was afraid.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAfraid? Afraid of what?\u201d My voice was hollow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI had them, Amara. I grew up with them before they passed. And you\u2026 you were alone. I felt guilty. Like I had taken the life you were supposed to have.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her words hit me like a punch to the ribs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"An<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

An upset bride | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For years, I had told myself that I was unwanted. Unlovable. <\/em>That whoever left me behind had done it because I wasn\u2019t worth keeping. That\u2019s all I thought about as a child.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But now?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now, the truth was here, and it was ugly and raw.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

They had loved me. And they had still left me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy now?\u201d I asked, my voice cracking. \u201cWhy today of all days?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"An<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alice sucked in a breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBecause I\u2019m dying, Amara,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She lifted her sleeve, revealing the scars of countless IV drips, the bruises dark along her skin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI have cancer,\u201d she said. \u201cIt\u2019s aggressive. I don\u2019t have much time left.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I swayed. My fingers found the edge of the seat, and I gripped it until they hurt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A crying bride | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI just\u2026 I didn\u2019t want to leave this world without you knowing the truth. Without you knowing me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I didn\u2019t realize I was crying until I felt the sob rip through my chest. And then I moved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stepped forward, wrapped my arms around her, and held her as tight as I could.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And for the first time in my life, since before Jonathan, I wasn\u2019t alone anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"An<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

An upset woman with her eyes closed | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Our honeymoon never happened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead of sun-drenched beaches and stolen kisses beneath tropical skies, my days were spent inside cold, sterile hospital rooms, watching my sister\u2019s body turn against her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had known Alice for less than a day before cancer forced me to start saying goodbye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It wasn\u2019t fair.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A beautiful beach setting | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She should have had years to make up for lost time, to bicker with me over stupid things, to tell me embarrassing stories about our childhood, to meet Jonathan properly. She should have walked into my life as a woman wanting to meet her sister, not as a stranger who crashed our wedding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead, we got a month. And most of it was in a hospital.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A single, fleeting month.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

And I spent every second of it loving her as fiercely as I could.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A hospital room | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHey,\u201d I whispered, nudging Alice\u2019s shoulder as she dozed off in the chemo chair. \u201cYou\u2019re drooling.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She peeled one eye open and gave me the weakest glare I had ever seen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLiar,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay, maybe not,\u201d I grinned. \u201cBut you did snore.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid not,\u201d she muttered, shifting slightly. Even that small movement made her wince.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A sick woman sitting in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I pretended not to notice the way her body curled into itself now, how her skin had gone pale and thin, and how the bruises from IVs had become a constant feature.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The nurses moved around us, their quiet efficiency making the reality of where we were inarguable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alice sighed, her fingers weakly tracing patterns against the blanket draped over her lap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAmara?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A woman lying in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat was it like?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat was what like, Alice?\u201d I frowned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGrowing up\u2026 without them? Without us?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I swallowed the lump in my throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt was\u2026 lonely.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m so sorry,\u201d she said, her eyes closed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A woman sitting in a hospital room | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And even though I wanted to tell her it was okay, that I had survived<\/em>, that I had found love, that I had built something beautiful despite it all\u2026 I couldn\u2019t<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because it wasn\u2019t okay.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And we both knew it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Balancing Alice and my new marriage felt like trying to hold onto two lifelines at once, each one pulling me in different directions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jonathan never once made me choose.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"An<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

An upset woman sitting on the floor | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll have the rest of our lives together, Amara,\u201d he told me one evening as he made dinner. \u201cWe have time, my love. But your sister doesn\u2019t. So, use this time to get to know her. Love her. Cherish her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But the guilt still gnawed at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One night, I came home late, exhausted, drained from watching Alice\u2019s body betray her all day. The second I stepped inside, I felt it. I felt how much I had neglected this other part of my life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A man in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Our apartment was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp spilling onto the couch where Jonathan sat, waiting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I felt the tears hit before I could stop them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d I whispered, sinking onto the couch beside him. \u201cI feel like I\u2019m failing you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jonathan didn\u2019t hesitate. He reached for me, pulling me against his chest, letting me bury myself in his warmth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not failing me, Amara,\u201d his voice was steady. \u201cYou\u2019re being a sister. And that\u2019s exactly what you need to be right now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I clung to him, relief flooding my body in shuddering waves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d I breathed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My husband pressed a kiss to the top of my head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe end is coming, my love. Alice said so herself. I promise you, I\u2019ll be right here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A couple sitting together | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I loved him. I adored him.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had loved him before, sure. But this? Now? This was different. Deeper.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAlice is a good man,\u201d Alice told me one day while I made her some chicken noodle soup. \u201cIt\u2019s easy to love someone when things are good, but to love them when things are\u2026 When they\u2019re hurting\u2026 That\u2019s when it matters most. I couldn\u2019t find that kind of love in my life. And when I first got sick, I just stopped trying.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I smiled at her softly. I didn\u2019t know what to say to that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A pot of soup | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alice started getting worse. Her voice grew softer, her steps slower. Sometimes, she would stare into the distance, her mind drifting somewhere I couldn\u2019t follow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One night, I found her in bed, curled up and looking so small. She didn\u2019t turn when I walked in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAlice?\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sat beside her, brushing a piece of lint away from her face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A woman laying in bed | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou know,\u201d I said softly, \u201cI always wanted a sister.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A breathy laugh left her lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou always had one, Amara. You just didn\u2019t know it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I swallowed against the ache in my throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI hate that we lost all those years.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A woman sitting in a bed | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She finally turned to face me, her tired eyes too full of things I couldn\u2019t bear to name.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe had this,\u201d she murmured. \u201cThat\u2019s what matters.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I nodded, blinking hard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, we did. If anything, we had this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She reached for my hand, her grip weak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAmara?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, sis?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWill you be there?\u201d she asked. \u201cAt the end?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I squeezed her fingers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course, Alice. I will always be right by your side.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Always.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A frail woman laying in bed | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alice passed away on a quiet Tuesday morning. She was in a hospital bed, bathed in the soft light of dawn. I sat beside her, holding her frail hand, pressing my forehead against her knuckles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her breathing slowed. Getting slower and slower.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Until it stopped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And just like that, she was gone. A strangled sob tore from my throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"An<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

An upset woman sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jonathan was there in seconds, pulling me into his arms as I crumbled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI never got enough time,\u201d I choked out. \u201cI never got\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know,\u201d he murmured against my hair. \u201cI know, love.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I pressed my face into his chest, grief clawing at my ribs. But somewhere in the storm of my sorrow and grief, there was something else. A whisper of peace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because Alice hadn\u2019t died a stranger. She had died as my sister. She had died loved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And that?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That was everything.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A funeral scene at a church | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A month later, I sat in my living room, looking at the new frame on the mantel. Jonathan had framed the photo of me as a newborn. The photo of me with my parents and little Alice hiding behind our father\u2019s legs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI love it,\u201d I told Jonathan as he brought me a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd, Amara, they needed to be seen. They\u2019ll always be around as long as they have you to remember them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut I don\u2019t remember them,\u201d I said. \u201cAlice, of course. But our parents? Nope.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A cup of tea with chocolate biscuits | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd that\u2019s okay, love,\u201d Jonathan said. \u201cInstead, remember that they loved you. They loved you more than life, and that\u2019s why they gave you up. To give you<\/em> the best possible chance at life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I smiled at my husband, eternally grateful for him. If it wasn\u2019t for Jonathan, I had no idea where I\u2019d be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd hey, if we have a daughter, I\u2019d like to name her Alice,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And years later, we did.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A newborn baby girl | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If you enjoyed this story, here\u2019s another one for you |<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kevin never expected his wife to vanish. But when his five-year-old daughter calls him at work, scared and alone, his world shatters. Laurel is gone, leaving only a cryptic note behind. A week later, he finds out her big secret. Now, he must face the truth: she never wanted their life. She wanted the world.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided \u201cas is,\u201d and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

On her wedding day, Amara finally feels like she belongs, until a woman walks in, looking exactly like her. As Amara learns a truth she […]<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":4604,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4603","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorised"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/time.amazingstory.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4603","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/time.amazingstory.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/time.amazingstory.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/time.amazingstory.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/time.amazingstory.blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4603"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/time.amazingstory.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4603\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4605,"href":"https:\/\/time.amazingstory.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4603\/revisions\/4605"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/time.amazingstory.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/4604"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/time.amazingstory.blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4603"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/time.amazingstory.blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4603"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/time.amazingstory.blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4603"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}