Zivia's been working the front desk here at Town Hall since Dahlia Leeds stopped coming to work, and she's made the executive decision to come in to work for the afternoon just in case anything's caught fire in everybody's absence. Of all the things she might have expected to see show up today, that uniform isn't among them.

The thought goes through her mind that this might be someone here to collect some unnamed debt, some hidden cost. But she's a professional, and she keeps her expression clear and her tone friendly-polite-neutral.

"Afternoon," she says, with enough smile to qualify. "Can I help you?"