Molly slid into the rear seat beside Bill, her eyes locked on the address on the invitation pinned to the giant banner flapping in the wind outside the party. "It's finally here, the sweet smell of sugar and sugar and sugar." Bill nodded, his face a map of concentration. "I feel a little nervous, Molly. This is our third heist in two weeks and I'm starting to think we're losing our edge." Molly snorted. "Edge? You're just bored, Bill. I know you, that's what you said last time too." Bill dropped the car into gear and accelerated through the streets of suburbia, the sound of children's laughter and chatter growing fainter as they wound their way up Main Street past the houses and playgrounds. Molly glared out the rearview mirror, watching as a gaggle of kids skipped past the parked station wagons, their blonde pigtails bobbing in the wind. "We're here," Bill said, his voice low and even. Molly raised an eyebrow. "I smell the presents. Hot." Bill shot her a wry smile. "Why would adult presents smell like presents, Molly?" Molly snorted. "You're just making it worse." Inside, the house was a riotous playground. The living room was a sea of sleeping faces, sprawled across the plush couch and floor cushions. Molly's eyes roved the room, taking in the rows of trees, the toys and decorations that decorated the mantle. And for an instant, her gaze snagged on a small, perfectly wrapped present hidden under the couch cushion. "Ah," she said, her voice husky with intrigue. "Ah." Bill's smile faltered as he leaned in to examine the present. "Looks like a Johnnycakes." The gift was exactly what it looked like. "I knew it. I wanted to see how it would look."