Page 103 of The Fix

The “leak” Posey had facilitated had nothing to do with the work she did with Rex, and so she didn’t consider it breaking her word.

And if Rex and Cami suspected it was Posey—after all, Cami had divulged the content of that conversation to her, and it was how Posey had known to hack the footage—they decided not to address it.

She’d calculated a 99 percent chance the video would begin a media feeding frenzy to Hollis Barclay’s misfortune and simply couldn’t resist such odds.

Spin, twirl, take a bow.

Posey sent the email Rex was awaiting and then pressed a button to call her caregiver in, a kind young woman who lived in the guesthouse just next door.

“Helmi, will you bring that and accompany me onto the deck?”

“Of course,” Helmi said, walking to the desk and picking up the box that Cyrus had brought for her. “What is it?”

“Wait until you see,” Posey said.

Helmi accompanied her through the double door and out into the crisp spring air.

She raised her face to the sun and felt the warmth on her skin.

Sometimes—every so often—Posey thought about Tatum Devore and the unanswerable question he’d once asked her.What sings to your soul?

Then ... so long ago ... Posey hadn’t had any idea how to answer, as there was no way to measure a soul nor the song it might hear.

But she was certain of its existence now. It needed no measurement or quantification. She simply knew itwas, because Posey had lost her body, but her soul had remained. And her soul was not the part of her that calculated or solved—it was the part of her thatfought.

The younger woman knelt down next to Posey and slowly opened the box.

A burst of butterflies made both of them laugh, joy sweeping through Posey as the colorful creatures tickled her cheek and then swooped into the air, fluttering and dancing and rising toward the sky, freedom on their wings.