Molly adjusted the fake mustache, tilting her face into the dimly lit rearview mirror. Beside her, Bill fingered the documentation detailing the upcoming children's birthday party they were about to infiltrate. The oversized balloons and garish banner outside the community center promised booby prizes and unattended bags filled with gold. "Alright, we get in as 'Uncle Bill' and 'Aunt Molly,'" he whispered, squinting at the party invitation. "Parents will never suspect a thing." "And we'll make our getaway during the piñata smash?" Molly queried, adjusting the inflatable sword belted to her waist. "And we'll make our getaway during the piñata smash," Bill affirmed, eyes flicking to the watch on his wrist. "The parents will be too distracted searching for candy to notice the presents are missing." Molly grinned, the dimple beside her eye deepening with mischief. Bill wouldn't have gotten this far without her uncanny ability to blend into any crowd. "This is going to be a piece of cake," she said, releasing the breath she'd been holding. "Piece of—oh, never mind," Bill began, eyebrows knitting together as he scrubbed a hand over his face. "Just stick to the plan, and we'll have the loot stashed before the cake is even cut." Clinking ice, fumbling zippers, and distant choruses of ‘Happy Birthday’ harmonized as they descended into the community center's basement parking lot. They lingered near a supply closet while a jubilant cake-carrying parade climbed the stairs above. Time seemed to expand in the weighted silence, but eventually— "Showtime," Bill murmured, ushering Molly forward as they slipped into the fray. Clad in matching ties and garish smiles, they plunged into the fray of sweating parents and sugar-coated kiddos, their eyes firmly on the prize. This was going to be their best heist yet.