Molly tapped her fingers on the sticky diner table, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "So, the birthday boy turns six tomorrow, and his parents are loaded." Bill leaned back, stirring his lukewarm coffee. "Loaded enough to get diamond-encrusted Power Ranger toys?" "Exactly," she smirked. "Who buys a six-year-old jewelry-grade action figures?" He chuckled, pulling out a crude hand-drawn map of the suburban home. "Security system looks basic. Wireless, probably installed by the dad who thinks he's tech-savvy but doesn't know a router from a toaster." "Perfect," Molly whispered. "We'll blend right in with the clown and the balloon animals." Bill raised an eyebrow. "You're going as the entertainment?" "Hired two days ago. Background check passed because I know how to use Photoshop and have a clean driving record." She slid a forged catering company ID across the table. "And the presents?" he asked, tracing potential escape routes with a greasy french fry. "Gift table, right by the cake. Wrapped in expensive paper, probably containing more value than the toys inside." Molly grinned. "Kids' birthday parties. Easiest job we'll pull this year."