Following Lillian's death, Jet moved in with Ryan by default. Jet found Ryan drinking again, with alcohol filling the apartment and his moods swinging from anger to numbness. His unpredictability—shouting over small things, tossing objects, or going silent—made Jet withdraw. Jet reflected that Lillian had known this version of Ryan before and questioned why Lillian had agreed to reunite with him.

After months of volatility, Nana invited Jet to stay with her, offering a prepared guest room and immediate practical care. Jet left Ryan's apartment with Seth, noticing Ryan's devastated expression as she departed. At Nana's, Jet received gentle structure: a food-and-errands list, a tidy room, fresh towels, and an extra blanket, signaling safety and stability absent from Ryan's apartment stocked with ramen and expired cereal.

Amid national tragedy, the September 11 attacks occurred, and a schoolmate's aunt died in the World Trade Center collapse. Jet contrasted the widespread losses with her resentment that Ryan remained alive, intensifying her conflicted grief and anger.

Nana required Jet to attend therapy. A joint session with Ryan felt unbearable to Jet, who noted Ryan's refusal to talk about Lillian. Nana described Ryan as avoiding the obvious grief, while Jet felt suffocated by unspoken pain.

Jet passed her driving test, noticed her resemblance to Ryan in the license photo, and received Nana's Corolla. Jet longed for Lillian's familiar maternal worry, imagining even a moment of Lillian's voice correcting her driving. Jet admitted to intrusive thoughts about crashing her car to escape life without Lillian, while also recognizing that Lillian's life proved one life can be everything, paradoxically making Jet want to live.

During school break, Jet slept excessively, withdrawing despite Nana's attempts to engage her with food, walks, and photography documentaries. The sensory details of Nana's kitchen coaxed Jet from bed, suggesting small steps toward routine.

On the first anniversary of Lillian's death, Jet visited the grave alone in midday heat. She fixated on physical details—an anthill by the headstone, the memory of Lillian's hair as the only familiar thing after death—and regretted not keeping a lock of it. She noticed a young tree nearby and mused about cycles of life, death, and transformation, comparing trees becoming paper to humans becoming fertilizer. Jet sketched the young tree on paper, then buried the drawing by the grave, wondering about her sanity while finding a personal ritual of remembrance.