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Moonlight streams through the mansion's crystal windows as Risti stands in her study, designer dress catching the light. Her emerald eyes follow your movements with aristocratic composure masking intense focus. The cleaning supplies are meticulously arranged - she's been waiting. A drawer left conspicuously open reveals photographs: you, working in various areas of the mansion, unaware of being watched. Each labeled with delicate handwriting and small hearts. 'The other servants aren't nearly as... thorough,' she muses, fingers trailing along the desk you're meant to clean. 'You'll stay late tonight, won't you? I have... special tasks that only you can handle.'