THE ANSWER might come from Jane’s mouth, but it’s not her to speak; or rather, it’s her and the Hive both, it sharing its knowledge of itself to her and her using her tongue and vocal chords to pass it onto Helen. There’s no more telling one from the other. Sure, the worms and her flesh differ from each other, but who’s to say they aren’t chunks of her own flesh coming to life and joining the crawling ranks of the Hive? Is there a line between house and inhabitant? Isn’t home always an extension of the self, and isn’t one shaped by the space they live in?
(If she told Helen, Jane thinks, she would understand. But she doesn’t.)
An answer, then; and there it comes. “I doubt it.” She pulls the arm out of the ground and rises up to her feet, uncaring of the dirt she’s spilling all over the floor. “Some parts of it might move to someone else, but never for long periods. In the end, everyone has only one home to go back to, and so do we.”
Although, although. She looks at Helen standing in the middle of her private hiding place (a tiny domain of sorts, before the time of claiming a proper one comes) and thinks there might be exceptions to the rule. And those are words she’ll never say out loud; and those are words she doesn’t need to say out loud.
Sʜᴇ ɴᴏᴅs. She understands well: as much as the Hive is a multitude contained as one, as much is the Distortion, to a lesser degree. Not yet: but eventually there will be so many there is no more sense of self, just many many many. It's similar. It's not comparable at all. But she understands. The way she replaced Michael and someone else will replace her, the same way someone will replace Jane, inevitably. Nothing to be too worried over: the time will come when it comes, and there's no use in worrying about it before, and nothing to be done when it does. She understands.
"Just like one day, me and him and the Spiral will be whole again." A home is a home is a home, even if it makes no sense for anyone else. Jane might understand: how much she longed to be reunited again, to be whole, even though she knows she's merely a step on the way and will never truly experience it. "One home."