Molly snuck into the house across the street, her heels clicking on the quiet neighborhood sidewalk. Bill stood outside the prize-winning tree, a gigantic Santa's belly-drooling in front of their target. The parents were too engrossed in hosting their Christmas party to send their kids out tonight. Molly slipped inside, her gaze sweeping the room. The chaos of presents stacked against the walls, colorful balloons scattered on the floor, and a makeshift "Help, I'm trapped!" banner draping from a festive backdrop made her hold up a playful grin. Bill's eyes locked onto their mark across the room, and his grin faltered for a beat. But then, with the same easy cadence, he joined the party, chuckling as kids shrieked and the parents shooed them away. The mother with the sugar-high toddler stumbled out into the street, attempting to corral the mini-angels, oblivious to their narrow escape route. As Molly passed by her own son, beaming with excitement at his latest gift – a glittery tutu – Bill mouthed, "I knew you wouldn't mind helping, darling. You're a professional." She winked and beckoned, taking care not to make eye contact.