[Zam runs a hand along a table, noting the dust that clings to her glove as she does so. Miles’s question gives her pause. Is there any reason not to tell him? He was willing to open up to her about his own past only a month earlier. And the truth would explain why she wasn’t exactly happy to be here. Why it might not be safe. After another moment of consideration, she answers.]

Jango Fett’s. The man who killed me. [She says it bluntly, almost casually, staying turned away as she pulls open a few cabinets and drawers. Things have been pushed away, put out of order. And yet the thin layer of dust that’s begun to settle over the furnishings suggest that whatever happened, it happened some time in the past.]

It looks like nobody’s been here in awhile. [Zam walks from the main space into an adjacent hallway, peering into the other rooms. They follow the same pattern -- messy, with few things taken.] Looks like they left in a rush too. [She doesn’t sound triumphant about her killer being chased out of his own home -- just perplexed. Worried, even. And she refers to a “they,” not a “he.”]

What the hell happened here...