[ Thing is, Tim doesn't actually know Parisa more than simply in passing, the recognition of another who has been here since the beginning. The only thing that identifies it as hers are a couple hairs stuck in the bag's zipper, which he removes carefully as he opens it, holding them up to the light to try to tell whether they're black or brown. Black, he thinks. ]

We have her phone, a perfume, and a bunch of garbage.

[ The phone has a passcode lock. He'll start trying random combinations. ]

I don't know how useful it'll be, but maybe someone who actually knew her could tell us.