The air in the van was tense as Molly and Bill sat across from each other, both focused on the plan they were about to execute. Molly, a tall, slender woman with a mischievous smile, tapped her fingers impatiently on her knee. Bill, a stocky man with a bushy mustache, ran his hand through his thinning hair, his eyes darting between Molly and the bag of tools at his feet. "Alright, Molly," Bill said, his voice low and gravelly. "We've gone over the plan a hundred times. You sure you're up for this?" Molly glared at him, her eyes narrowing. "Of course I'm up for it. I've been pulling heists since before you were born, Billy boy. And you'd better not screw this up. We're talking about children here." Bill rolled his eyes and leaned back against the van's wall. "Please, like I'd jeopardize a job over some kids. I'm just making sure we're on the same page." Molly let out a long sigh, her shoulders relaxing. "Fine. We're on the same page. Let's just get this over with." The van pulled up to the park where the children's party was taking place, brightly colored balloons and streamers adorning the area. Molly and Bill exchanged a quick glance before exiting the van, their tools in hand. As they approached the party, they could hear the laughter and excitement of the children. Molly's stomach churned, but she kept her face expressionless. Bill, on the other hand, looked slightly green around the gills. "You good, Bill?" Molly asked, her voice barely audible over the sound of the party. Bill swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Let's just do this." They slipped into the crowd unnoticed, blending in with the other parents and party guests. Molly scanned the area, taking note of the presents piled high on a nearby table. Bill followed her gaze, his eyes widening. "Oh man, that's a lot of toys," he muttered under his breath. Molly smirked. "Told you they were going all out for this one. Ready to get to work?" Bill hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, let's do it." They set to work, weaving their way through the crowd as they quietly unloaded the presents from the table, stashing them in their bags. The children, caught up in their games and the excitement of the party, didn't seem to notice the missing toys. As they neared the end of the pile, Molly felt a tug on her shirt. She looked down to see a small boy with wide, innocent eyes looking up at her. "Excuse me, ma'am," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you taking all the presents? I was really hoping to play with that new action figure." Molly's heart clenched, and she looked over at Bill, who was staring at the ground, guilt etched across his face. She knelt down, her eyes level with the boy's. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I can't leave the presents, but I promise I'll get you that action figure. What's your name and where can I find you?" The boy's face lit up, and he grinned. "I'm Timmy, and I live at 123 Maple Street. Thank you, ma'am!" Molly smiled back and ruffled his hair before standing up. She met Bill's gaze, and they both knew they'd made the right decision. As they left the party, heading back to their van with the stolen presents, Molly couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Sure, they'd stolen from children, but they'd also managed to brighten one little boy's day. And isn't that what really mattered?