Molly adjusted her glasses, eyeing the blueprint of the mansion. “Bill, if we time this right, we could be wealthy before breakfast,” she whispered, her eyes gleaming with mischief. Bill, rubbing his hands together, nodded. “The children’s party is perfect. It’s a wonderland—little kids and all those wrapped up gifts. Who'd suspect us?” “Exactly,” Molly chuckled, swiping her velvet glove across her forehead. “We'll disguise as janitors. Bulk of the loot will be right at our fingertips.” “As we slip past the festivities,” Bill continued, grinning, “I’ve memorized the security roster. I’ll handle Sheriff Stone at the main gate.” Molly drummed her fingers on her holstered weapon. “Leave Stone to us. I’ll be in and out like a mouse before Mrs. Henderson kicks me out for sniffing the cheese.” “Mrs. Henderson,” Bill echoed mockingly, “she can’t resist a festive holiday spirit.” They shared a glance filled with silent agreement, the thrill of the heist coursing through them. Their plan was the cunningest; amongst copious tinsel and jubilant children, they’d spirit away the day’s gifts, leaving nothing but confetti-strewn footprints. “Affirmative,” Molly confirmed, her voice a seamless blend of steel and playfulness, “Step one: Leg warmer-clad janitors. Step two: Shattered trust and stolen presents abound.” Bill nodded, his smile enigmatic, and they exited their hideout, their laughter a mix of the mirthful and the morbid, the innocence of the party a thin veil over their most daring caper yet.