In 2011, Jet participates in a prenatal appointment as a student with a midwife who is focused on paperwork and counseling a thirty-seven-weeks-pregnant first-time mother. The midwife instructs Jet to perform the routine fetal heartbeat check, a quiet milestone for Jet's long-held dream of birth work.

Handling the stethoscope brings Jet back to childhood memories of a pink toy stethoscope and her mother Lillian. She recalls trying to find Lillian's heartbeat in her stomach and Lillian whispering "I love you" into the toy so Jet could hear something, a moment that blends care, play, and reassurance.

The memory shifts to the night of Lillian's death. Jet describes the desperate urge to have a stethoscope to confirm a heartbeat, the irrational hopes in sudden tragedy, and her physical attempts to find a pulse. She remembers the conflict over Lillian's organ donor status, feeling possessive and relieved when donation was no longer possible, despite knowing Lillian would have wanted it.

Jet recalls touching Lillian's chest during last respects and silently pleading for guidance to find the heartbeat. She meditates on how a mother's presence continues as a living pulse in descendants, reframing "gone but not forgotten" as ultimately a mother being forgotten but not gone.

The reflection leads Jet to consider her own potential desire for children, thinking of birth as a kind of resurrection. Returning to the present, she completes the check on the visibly active baby, acknowledging that sometimes reassurance is needed even when signs are obvious.

Jet removes the stethoscope and, addressing the anxious first-time mother, affirms the result with calm reassurance: the baby's heartbeat is "loud and strong."