Molly crouched behind the neatly trimmed hedge, scribbling furiously on a notepad while Bill peered through a pair of oversized binoculars. He was dressed absurdly in a shirt that screamed Hawaiian vacation and sunglasses that belonged in a 1980s spy movie. The sun danced happily across the sky, quite unaware of the nefarious plans brewing below. A few feet away, balloons bobbed in the gentle breeze surrounding the meticulously decorated backyard where the children's party was in full swing. Bright streamers zigzagged between trees, and laughter floated in the air like bubbles. Under the pretense of planning, Molly and Bill were actually ensuring that their absurdly ill-fated plan to steal birthday presents went without a hitch. “I say, we wait till the piñata,” whispered Molly, her eyes darting to the colorful paper-mâché donkey hanging from a sturdy branch. Bill grunted, shifting his weight. “Too messy. Kids everywhere. Let’s swipe during the magic show.” With a plan half-baked and their hearts pumping with adrenaline, they waited for the magician to draw every eye before making their move, unaware of the tiny eyes observing them from the treehouse above.