Molly unfolded the map of the party venue across the small café table, her eyes dancing over the ballroom layout. "Alright, so we've got the cake in the corner, the face painter by the stage, and the gift table right by the exit." Bill scratched his chin. "Which is exactly why we're not going in through the main door. I don't want any soggy clown surprises." "Don't worry, I've got the alternate entrance covered," Molly said, tapping a finger on the ventilation shaft marked on the map. "We go in through the air duct, make our way to the gift table, snatch the presents, and – " "And most importantly, escape with our dignity intact," Bill interrupted. Molly raised an eyebrow. "You really think dignity matters when you're stealing presents from five-year-olds?" "Well, have you ever seen a pack of squealing toddlers chasing after you, demanding the return of their Frozen dolls?" Bill asked dryly. "Dignity matters." Molly chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Right, because nothing ruins a good heist like a toddler curse." Bill shook his head, grinning. "You're impossible." Molly just grinned back. "That's why they call me the greatest party burglar alive."