Jo arrives home still rehashing her fight with Georgia Simmons, particularly why Georgia hid Mitch’s proposal and what Wyn Hadley may have known. As Jo enters the kitchen, she finds Wyn and Hank Hadley coping with a melted plastic and coffee mess in the oven—evidence of Wyn’s worsening memory. Wyn grows upset and defensive, and Hank tries to soothe her. Seeing their struggle, Jo retreats, overwhelmed by the escalating reality of Wyn’s dementia and the family’s stress.

In the car, Jo’s spiraling halts when she hears Sebastian Fell in their telepathic link, humming and wrestling with lyrics for their shared melody. He grows frustrated and mentions how “she used to make this look so easy,” which Jo realizes likely refers to his mother. When Sebastian senses Jo’s presence and asks for suggestions, Jo admits she cannot explain the feeling she chases in songwriting but gets an idea.

Jo drives to Sebastian’s nearby beach rental, signals her arrival, and picks him up. In the Subaru, Sebastian jokes about being a bad influence, and Jo insists they are working. Up close, Jo notices Sebastian looks exhausted. Before they start, Sebastian apologizes for the previous night, admitting he does not know who he is without his anger at his father and himself, or how music should feel without it. Jo tells him she might know another way.

Jo asks Sebastian to find a mixtape in the glove box and loads one of Wyn’s old cassettes. As Jo pulls onto the highway with the windows down and sunroof open, music fills the car. The drive becomes an embodiment of the “magic” Jo associates with music—memories of joyrides, concerts, road trips, family singalongs, and everyday commutes where songs live and gain meaning.

Through the shared listening experience, Jo wordlessly communicates what inspires her—the feeling that guides her songwriting. Sebastian watches Jo, moved, and agrees, affirming, “It is,” signaling that they have reconnected emotionally and creatively, aligning their process beyond anger and toward shared wonder.