If Ryan or Sue looked at phoebes desk, where her laptop was, papers spread across it, they would see a handful of small packages.

If they saw them, they would note it was from a delivery company. If they looked,
They would see phoebes handwriting on them, names on each package. Sue. Katherin. Kijani. And Ryan. They would notice that some of the writing was smudged. 

Inside each was a small flower, solid. It would never die, or so Phoebe had hoped. 

Around phoebes room there would be constant signs of her_her flowers, her cooking gear, little notes here and there that she had a habit of doing. Silly things like [i]"kick butt today"[/i]. Posters of favorite bands, movies, books covered the walls. It had a definetely Phoebe feel to it, as if she was still there.