The lights in the hallway felt too bright. Ferris was amazed he\u2019d made it to his door, having missed his stop on the train home and then forgotten to select a floor in the elevator. He\u2019d worked late again, trying to focus against the hum of the janitor\u2019s vacuum. There was a lot of catching up to do and it took every ounce of patience in his heart not to blame Demos for it.<\/p>\n
It was<\/i> his fault, though.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Through the door, Stanley had caught the sound of keys and was jumping on the other side.<\/p>\n
\u201cHold on, Stan. I\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, you\u2019re home. Finally,\u201d Seamus said the moment the door opened. He was draped on the sofa with a British cooking show illuminating his body in the dark.<\/p>\n
\u201cAh.\u201d Ferris shut the door behind him. \u201cI forgot I have two pets.\u201d<\/p>\n
Seamus rolled over, resting his chin on his arms. \u201cI think I\u2019m more of a wife than a pet.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCareful, or I\u2019ll demote you to house plant.\u201d<\/p>\n
With a sigh, Ferris slumped down next to him, his shirt bunching against the couch. There wasn\u2019t quite enough room for the both of them, yet he couldn\u2019t bring himself to care.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah?\u201d Seamus waved a small, crumpled object in his friend\u2019s face. \u201cDo house plants pay rent?\u201d<\/p>\n
Once his eyes focused, Ferris could see that item clutched in Seamus\u2019 hand was paper \u2014 a roll of bills. He blinked.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you, it\u2019s rent! Take it!\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris took the little wad of money, noting the texture, the printing. It was real. It was actual cash.<\/p>\n
\u201cFuck, I think\u2014 I think I\u2019m going to cry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, as much as I\u2019d love to see you express an emotion,\u201d Seamus stood, letting out an impressive stretch before working out a few kinks in his neck, \u201cI\u2019ve got a date with a queue.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris squinted. \u201cSince when have you stood in line for anything?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSince Doublecross<\/i>.\u201d Seamus presented two thumbs up and a showy grin. \u201cNew album\u2019s coming out at midnight. Want to come?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTold Demos I\u2019d take him out. I\u2019ve never heard of them, anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s because you\u2019re naff and listen to old dead guys like Choppin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s Sho-pan, you idi\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cSee, I knew you\u2019d correct me \u2014 \u2018cause you\u2019re naff. These girls are brilliant. And the lead guitar is hot.\u201d<\/p>\n
Seamus waved a creased flyer which Ferris promptly ignored.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay, sure,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cHave fun in your line. Don\u2019t push anybody.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWouldn\u2019t dream of it!\u201d<\/p>\n
The door shut with a light clack, leaving Ferris in blissful solitude. He slid farther down on the sofa, unrolling the cash to examine in the flickering light of the television. He had to take this moment alone while it lasted. Demos would be arriving at any\u2014<\/p>\n
The phone rang.<\/p>\n
\u201cHey, Ghost.\u201d Ferris smiled, only because no one could see.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019re you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCounting money.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos scoffed. \u201cDid you rob a bank without me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSeamus paid me rent. Kind of.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cKind of?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s fifty bucks.\u201d The bills flicked through his fingers as he tallied to the last one. \u201cHow much does he think apartments cost? There\u2019s so many ones here. Is he a stripper, too?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, stop counting. I\u2019m almost there.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris glanced at his watch. \u201cHow far are\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
There was a knock at the door. He didn\u2019t bother looking, only glaring at his phone. \u201cIs that you, you piece of shit?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I\u2019m not letting you in.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine, I\u2019ll just\u2014\u201c There was a rattle. The lock bumped against the frame, stubborn against its assailant.<\/p>\n
Ferris lay his head back on the sofa, enjoying the moment. \u201cYou forgot your key.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I didn\u2019t think I\u2019d need<\/i> it,\u201d Demos said. \u201cJust let me in, asshole. I\u2019m cold.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was barely autumn. Some of the trees had started to yellow, yet it wasn\u2019t what most people would call \u2018cold.\u2019 Of course, Demos was not most people.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re in a hallway. You\u2019re indoors.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFerris!\u201d<\/p>\n
Biting back a grin, Ferris headed for the door. Demos was, as expected, hugging his own arms on the other side. His Harrington jacket was bunched between his fingers, a melodramatic display of his discomfort.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou need to gain some weight.\u201d He stepped aside to let poor soul in. \u201cYou don\u2019t have any insulation.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos hooked an arm around Ferris\u2019 waist, rumpling his work clothes worse than the couch had. Ferris could smell the cigarette smoke in his hair as the slight Italian robbed him of his body heat.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve got you, don\u2019t I?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll always have me.\u201d There was a pause, a brief slice of time where the two stood in a semi-comical, semi-genuine embrace. \u201cExcept right now, I have to pee.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos rolled his eyes as Ferris slipped away, disappearing into the bathroom.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, hurry up. You promised we\u2019d go shopping and they\u2019re going to close soon.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s fine,\u201d Ferris called through the door. \u201cWe can take my new car.\u201d<\/p>\n
#<\/p>\n
Once outside, Demos seemed to have forgotten the cold. He stared at the vehicle on the curb, hand over his mouth in thought.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought you said \u2018new\u2019 car.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris ignored the quip, fishing for his keys in his pocket. \u201cShut up. Yours is even older than this one.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, but mine\u2019s cute.\u201d Demos circled the bumper, running his hand over the hood. \u201cIt\u2019s British. I knew it. Seamus got to you, didn\u2019t he?\u201d<\/p>\n
Sensing an oncoming storm, Ferris dangled the keys between two fingers.<\/p>\n
\u201cWant to take it for a spin?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris stared as his friend rounded the car, opening the door with a click and settling inside. He had gotten into the passenger seat.<\/p>\n
\u201cI said\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
Demos fastened his seat belt. \u201cWell, don\u2019t just stand there. Let\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n
With a slow breath, Ferris closed his eyes. It had been worth a try. He supposed this was how it was meant to be \u2014 him, in the driver\u2019s seat, forever cursed to be the Italian\u2019s chauffeur.<\/p>\n
Even with an unusual amount of traffic followed by block-circling for a parking spot, they somehow made it to the store before it closed. Soft yellow lights illuminated the window display, reflecting in Demos\u2019 eyes as he gazed at a row of leather bags.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook at them.\u201d Demos reached for the glass before stopping himself. \u201cThey\u2019re beautiful.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou look at bags the same way normal people look at puppies.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe black one\u2014 the one with the drummed calfskin and cotton twill lining. It\u2019s perfect.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, it also costs more than my computer. You waste too much money.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos narrowed his eyes. \u201cLike you know anything about money.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s my job<\/i> to know about money.\u201d Ferris returned the look. \u201cIf you buy that I\u2019m going to kill you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, your job is ruining my life. You\u2019re great at it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks.\u201d He turned back to the shop window, catching the reflections of passersby in the glass. Squares of white sat in a row \u2014 newspapers lined up in the kiosk behind them. Ferris almost missed the headlines, but the black, block letters read a familiar name. He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the print once more. There it was, a name he\u2019d heard far too many times over the course of his life \u2014 Blakely.<\/p>\n
\u201cHuh.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos\u2019 gaze was once more locked on the display. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t tell me Blakely was retiring,\u201d Ferris said.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t be ridiculous, he\u2019s not retiring.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not what the paper says.\u201d<\/p>\n
This stole the Ghost\u2019s attention. He turned with a start, eyes locked on the kiosk. There were a half dozen of the newspapers, one after another, all boasting the same, damning headline.<\/p>\n
BLAKELY RETIRING AFTER 10 YEARS SERVICE<\/p>\n
Demos hurried to the stand, snatching a paper up with both hands. His fingers crumpled the edges as he read the article, his eyes wide and white, darting from one paragraph to another. Blakely, the police chief for the last decade, the man the Giorgettis had blackmailed senseless, who had literally let them get away with murder, was leaving.<\/p>\n
Demos hissed in his next breath. \u201cShit.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell.\u201d Ferris stuffed his hands into his pockets. \u201cSo much for shopping.\u201d<\/p>\n
#<\/p>\n
Though Ferris wasn\u2019t exactly fond of shopping, it was far preferable to the gentleman\u2019s club they had just entered. The Looking Glass was run by the Marianis, who had done everything in their power to fabricate a sense of class. Burgundy drapes hugged the stage and leather-seated booths ran from one end to another. One might have mistaken the establishment for a high-end restaurant, if not for the strutting, mostly-nude stripper bathed in flashing blue lights.<\/p>\n
They spotted him at a table against the wall. Blakely was alone, nursing his fourth vodka. His eyes followed the woman on stage, reddened with liquor and age.The club was filled with movement, with music, figures crowding the stage and drifting by on the upper balcony. Blakely, however, was anchored to his seat. He didn\u2019t look over when the two joined him at the table.<\/p>\n
Blakely set down his glass. \u201cSo, you found me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe have eyes,\u201d Demos said. \u201cYou know that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGino couldn\u2019t bother, could he? Had to send his grandkid.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPowerful men don\u2019t take out their own trash, Blakely.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was a speaker on the wall above their heads. Ferris could feel the bass permeating every surface, a rhythmic heartbeat drowning out their conversation. A group of men paraded past, hands occupied with bottles and women. Ferris thought back, trying to recall the first time he had heard Blakely\u2019s name. It had been years back, in high school \u2014 it was that Japanese restaurant. He\u2019d heard everything in a hushed voice over the table, of the police chief in their pocket, of the tape \u2014 the tape of that terrible, unforgivable thing the man had done.<\/p>\n
Trash<\/i> was putting it lightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cFuck you, kid. I\u2019m done.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos\u2019 hands tightened. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell us?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy? Because I knew you\u2019d throw a goddamned fit. I knew you\u2019d try to stop me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can\u2019t just\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cLook at me!\u201d\u00a0 <\/span>The police chief gestured to his own face, his eyes burning.\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cYou think this job is easy? Ten fuckin\u2019 years and I\u2019ve aged twenty. My hair\u2019s falling out. My dick\u2019s even worse, I\u2019m lucky if I can get half a hard-on anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe had a deal.\u201d<\/p>\n A deal \u2014 it was one simple deal that had kept the Giorgettis out of prison, that had shifted the eyes and ears of every cop in the city. There\u2019d been that night, the night Victor\u2019s Lincoln had T-boned a police cruiser. Ferris hadn\u2019t forgotten what the officer had said \u2014 he couldn\u2019t, no matter how hard he tried.<\/p>\n \u2018Chief Blakely sends his deepest apologies.\u2019<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n \u201cHaven\u2019t I done enough for you?\u201d Blakely said. \u201cWhat do you want me to do, work until I drop dead? I can\u2019t do this anymore. You want to let out that tape? Knock yourself out.\u201d<\/p>\n Demos swallowed. The strings had been cut \u2014 there was no leverage over a man with nothing to lose.<\/p>\n \u201cSo who\u2019s next, Blakely? Who\u2019s replacing you?\u201d<\/p>\n The police chief ran a hand over his thinning hair. \u201cI don\u2019t know, that\u2019s your problem now. If you have someone, I can endorse them, but that\u2019s the last fuckin\u2019 thing I\u2019m doing for you.\u201d<\/p>\n Their conversation hadn\u2019t been long, but it was just enough time for the club staff to notice a Giorgetti and his sidekick parked in a booth with the soon-to-be-retired police chief. Ferris could feel eyes shifting in their direction and one of the bartenders was speaking intently on the phone, eyes locked on Demos. Perhaps a Mariani strip club was a poor choice of setting.<\/p>\n Ferris\u2019 hands tightened on the tabletop. \u201cGhost, I think\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201cWe should go,\u201d Demos stood, rebuttoning his suit. \u201cAnd we\u2019ll take that endorsement.\u201d<\/p>\n Blakely lifted his glass with a scoff. \u201cGreat.\u201d<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t until they reached the parking lot that either spoke again.<\/p>\n \u201cThe hell are we going to do now?\u201d Ferris pinched the bridge of his nose. \u201cWhat if the new guy doesn\u2019t have any dirt on him?\u201d<\/p>\n Demos had already pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. His eyes were bright with intention, as if he had an idea. Of course he had an idea.<\/p>\n He always had an idea.<\/p>\n Demos gave his friend a sideways smile as he held the phone to his ear. \u201cMaybe he won\u2019t have to.\u201d<\/p>\n #<\/p>\n It was strange to be back at St. Basil\u2019s. It had been a long time since they\u2019d stood in the middle school wing. Demos had just arrived to the States, a strange Italian boy whose mother had died, one Ferris couldn\u2019t quite wrap his head around. Now, a decade later, the lockers seemed so small. Ferris felt old just looking at them, but they weren\u2019t there to feel old. They had come for a piano recital.<\/p>\n Half of the auditorium seats were filled, mostly with parents. Demos and Ferris stuck to the back wall, out of sight beneath a cut of shadow. Piano music filled the hall. A boy was playing Moonlight Sonata, the notes sweet and fluttering with nervous pauses here and there. It gave Ferris flashbacks to his early\u00a0violin recitals, and how terrifying it was to be on stage. His first performance had sounded awful.<\/p>\n An elbow to his side broke Ferris\u2019 line of thought.<\/p>\n \u201cThere she is,\u201d Demos said.<\/p>\n \u201cI see her, stop jabbing me.\u201d<\/p>\n Demos jabbed him harder, earning a shoulder-shove in return. \u201cHey, watch the flowers.\u201d<\/p>\n The girl on stage wore a blue dress to her knees, her hands fisted as she spoke into the microphone.<\/p>\n \u201cSuki Lee, playing Prelude Op. 23 No. 5, by Rachmaninoff.\u201d<\/p>\n She strode to the piano bench. Her hands hovered over the keys, chest rising with a single deep breath. Suki knit her brow, then began to play. Notes broke the silence that had settled over the auditorium, a rising tide of deep, proud chords. Tiny hands flitted from left to right over the keys, fingers dancing over black and white.<\/p>\n Ferris leaned in to his friend, voice soft in his ear. \u201cShe\u2019s better than you.\u201d<\/p>\n Demos elbowed him for the third time.<\/p>\n When the song ended, the two slipped out the back door, unseen through the applause.<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s not<\/i> better than me,\u201d Demos said, brushing imaginary lint from his sleeve.<\/p>\n \u201cWere you that good when you were eleven?\u201d<\/p>\n Demos scoffed. \u201cYes. I could play Rachmaninoff.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh my God, are you jealous of a kid?\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n Ferris got the venomous glare he was expecting and laughed, doubling over at the sight of the small, bitter Italian.<\/p>\n \u201cUncle Ferris, are you being mean?\u201d came a voice from down the hallway. Suki had just come through the door, her father standing close behind her.<\/p>\n \u201cNever,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cI would never be mean to him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid you see me play?\u201d<\/p>\n Demos\u2019 frown had swept into a smile faster than Ferris could even blink. \u201cYou were amazing. We were standing in the back so\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201cI know.\u201d Suki took the bouquet of lilies he\u2019d offered with both hands. \u201cBecause Dad is embarrassed to be seen with you, because you\u2019re shady.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho taught you to say that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m in middle school, I can teach myself things! But, um, thanks for helping me practice.\u201d<\/p>\n Demos\u2019 smile softened. \u201cAnytime.\u201d<\/p>\n Suki held the bouquet to her face, taking in the scent of the lilies. \u201cDo you need to talk to Dad? About shady stuff?\u201d<\/p>\n Ferris cleared his throat.<\/p>\n \u201cYou go ahead, honey.\u201d Lee bent down to kiss his daughter\u2019s cheek. \u201cYou can watch the rest of your friends play.\u201d<\/p>\n The three men stood in silence until she was gone, the auditorium door drifting shut behind her.<\/p>\n \u201cSo.\u201d Demos folded his arms. \u201cYou\u2019re embarrassed to be seen with us?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe<\/i> said shady,\u201d Lee said. \u201cI never said shady.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, your kid\u2019s a natural.\u201d<\/p>\n Lee smiled, his chest swelling. \u201cShe wants to go to music school.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGood. At least one of you two has talent.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re hilarious, Ghost. So what do you want? I\u2019m kind of in the middle of a proud father moment here.\u201d<\/p>\n Demos gestured to the video recorder Lee had strapped to one hand. \u201cThat thing off?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou think I\u2019m an idiot? It\u2019s off.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re sure you\u2019ve heard about Blakely,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cAbout his retirement.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course. I was going to ask you about that, actually. I hope you have a plan.\u201d<\/p>\n Demos leaned back against a locker, the metal brushing the back of his suit. Ferris could tell he was thinking. It had been a while since they\u2019d first met Lee, but the man had grown considerably \u2014 not in the way a boy grows into a man, taller, stronger. No, it was the way a man grows into a professional. He still had the same lanky, unassuming physique, and the dark circles hadn\u2019t left his eyes. Yet, there was something straighter in the way he stood and an offhanded confidence in his voice, one that had once been an act but was now entirely real.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re the plan, Lee.\u201d<\/p>\n The man squinted back at Demos. \u201cWhat do you mean, I\u2019m<\/i> the plan?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re going to be the next chief of police.\u201d<\/p>\n Lee laughed. It was a hard, instant laugh, a concoction of humor and denial. Ferris could see him go through every stage of grief before stopping just shy of acceptance.<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n Demos frowned. \u201cYou haven\u2019t even\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m an inspector, Ghost. I\u2019m not even a deputy chief, or a\u2014 I\u2019m not a chief of anything. Who in their right mind would make me<\/i> chief of police?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe mayor,\u201d Ferris said.<\/p>\n Lee folded his arms, his only defense against their offensive. \u201cPalmisano?\u201d<\/p>\n Demos nodded. \u201cHis third term is coming up. He wouldn\u2019t have won the last two without us. Blakely would endorse you, too.\u201d<\/p>\n Lee rubbed the back of his head. \u201cI don\u2019t know, Ghost. I\u2019m too young for this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo he\u2019s too old and you\u2019re too young.\u201d Demos ran his hands over his face. \u201cI don\u2019t have time for this Goldilocks bullshit. Look, you\u2019re incredible at your job. The Layman case \u2014 the Good Friday bombing. You ran all of those, didn\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, yes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou know the pay isn\u2019t bad, either. You could send her to Juilliard.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, hell no.\u201d Lee unfolded his arms, knife-handing the Italian. \u201cDon\u2019t you dare try to manipulate me with\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m just saying, Lee. Will you consider it?\u201d<\/p>\n The man paused, his shoulders resigning, head dropping back as if asking some greater power what he\u2019d done to deserve this. After a moment he glanced through the doors Suki had left through only minutes ago. Piano music continued to drift through the walls, notes stumbling over one another as someone else\u2019s child played the Star Spangled Banner. He inhaled through his nose \u2014 a slow, defeated breath under tightly closed eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cFine. But no promises. This\u2014 this would be a big change.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re ready for it,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cAnd so is Southport.\u201d<\/p>\n Demos lifted himself from the locker, tapping Ferris\u2019 arm to indicate their departure. \u201cThink about it.\u201d<\/p>\n The two made their way down the hall, leaving the poor man with his thoughts. Ferris had half a mind to lecture his friend about digging right into Lee\u2019s weak spot, but held his tongue. Demos was right.<\/p>\n It would be a shame if she couldn\u2019t go to music school.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The lights in the hallway felt too bright. Ferris was amazed he\u2019d made it to his door, having missed his stop on the train home and then forgotten to select a floor in the elevator. He\u2019d worked late again, trying to focus against the hum of the janitor\u2019s vacuum. There was a lot of catching […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-408","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fishbones-book-02"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4oWx8-6A","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/408","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=408"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/408\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":569,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/408\/revisions\/569"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=408"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=408"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=408"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}