Refund work is a decision problem dressed up as a conversation. The production question is always some version of "does this ticket get an approval, a partial credit, a denial, or a human?" Everything else, tone, apology, explanation, is packaging. That is why refund agents are a good first evaluation project: the correct answer is auditable, denominated in dollars, and usually written down in a policy somewhere.
The testing pattern most teams copy from demos fails here. Someone types twenty questions, the answers look plausible, and the agent goes live to meet customers who misspell product names, paste order numbers in the third paragraph, and push on policy edges. One practitioner account of agent testing names exactly this gap between "looked good in the demo" and "safe in production" as the thing a real test plan closes, and it lists the failure modes that reach customers: confident answers with no source, lost context on turn three, and actions policy does not allow the IrisAgent testing plan.
The same source notes why a hand-typed question set proves so little: identical questions worded three ways can produce three answers, and a knowledge base edit on Tuesday changes answers nobody touched IrisAgent. A refund agent amplifies that: it does not just answer, it moves money.
The decision-level framing matters for who owns the test set, too. Your customer experience team writes the expected outcomes, because the correct outcome is your policy, including the parts nobody has written down the Richpanel evaluation guide. Not the vendor, and not the engineer who wrote the prompt.
There is a second reason to anchor on decisions. Refund conversations are where an agent's authority boundary matters most: approving money movement, overriding a policy limit, or interpreting a dispute requires human authority, and an agent that has not been told where that line sits will drift across it under customer pressure the Petronella escalation guide. Your test set is the only place you can check that line cheaply.



