Molly leaned back in the rickety kitchen chair, her fingers drumming against a blueprinted layout of the suburban house. Bill stood nearby, munching on a stale donut and squinting at the diagram. "So you're telling me we're going to rob a kid's birthday party?" Bill asked, powdered sugar dusting his stubbled chin. Molly rolled her eyes. "Not just any birthday party. This is the Hendersons' annual extravaganza. We're talking top-tier gifts from wealthy relatives who don't know the meaning of restraint." Bill whistled. "How much are we looking at?" "Conservative estimate? Fifteen grand in electronics, collectibles, and cash gifts," Molly said, tapping a red marker on a section of the blueprint. "Parents always hide the good stuff in the home office." "And the security?" Bill munched another bite of donut. Molly slid a surveillance photo across the table. "Minimal. Hired a bouncy castle company, two teenage cousins as party supervisors, and grandparents who look like they've been sedated." "Perfect mark," Bill mumbled through a mouthful of pastry. "We'll dress as party entertainers. I've got clown and magician costumes. Your choice." Molly smirked. "And before you ask, yes, I've already checked the guest list and confirmed no cops or security professionals are attending." Bill chuckled. "Professional children's party infiltration. Never thought I'd see the day." "Focus," Molly snapped. "We have a 47-minute window between cake cutting and present opening. That's when parents are most distracted." "Kids hopped up on sugar, adults comparing Pinterest party boards. Got it." Bill wiped crumbs from his shirt. Molly pulled out a detailed schedule. "We'll enter at 2:13 PM. Birthday boy is seven, named Trevor. Parents are Linda and Mark Hendersion, both corporate lawyers who'll be too busy documenting every moment on social media to notice us." "Sounds like a solid plan," Bill said, studying the layout. "Backup exit strategy?" "Utility room window. Leads directly to a side alley. We'll have the van prepped and ready." Molly traced the escape route with her finger. Bill raised an eyebrow. "Stealing from children. We're going to hell." "Correction," Molly said dryly. "We're going to the Cayman Islands. With very expensive presents." They clinked coffee mugs, the blueprint spread between them like a battle plan. Outside, the morning light cast long shadows, promising another perfect heist was about to unfold.