Molly tossed a colorful party invitation onto the table between them. Bill picked it up, raising his eyebrows at the glittery unicorn design. "Little Sophia Turner's sixth birthday bash," Molly announced, drumming her fingers against her coffee mug. "Twenty-six confirmed guests, all bringing wrapped presents. The party's this Saturday at the Turner estate." Bill squinted at the invitation. "We're hitting a kid's birthday party now? That's low even for us, Mol." "Not low—smart," Molly countered, leaning forward. "Think about it. Rich parents, expensive gifts, minimal security because who expects thieves at a children's party?" "I don't know," Bill mumbled, running a hand through his thinning hair. "Something about stealing from kids feels wrong." "These aren't just any kids," Molly said, pulling out her phone to show Bill pictures of the Turner mansion. "These are kids whose parents buy them diamond-encrusted teddy bears and miniature electric sports cars. They won't even notice a few gifts gone missing." Bill whistled at the mansion photos. "That's some birthday venue. What's our approach?" "We pose as employees from the entertainment company," Molly explained, spreading out fake credentials on the table. "I've got us listed as assistant clowns." "Clowns? Seriously?" Bill groaned, picking up his ID card. "I hate clowns." "That makes two of us," Molly agreed with a grin. "But the head clown called in sick, so we're just the helpers who set up balloon animals and magic tricks." Bill examined his credentials suspiciously. "Where'd you get these anyway?" "Does it matter?" Molly shrugged. "We go in through the service entrance, case the gift table, then slip the good stuff into our prop bags while everyone's watching the magician." "What if someone spots us?" Bill asked, nervousness evident in his voice. "Nobody pays attention to the help at these things," Molly assured him. "Besides, we'll be in makeup. Even their security cameras won't get a clear shot of our faces." Bill sighed heavily. "Fine, but if we're caught, I'm blaming you entirely." "When have I ever steered you wrong?" Molly asked, batting her eyelashes innocently. "Amsterdam," Bill replied flatly. "Paris. That disaster in Seattle." "Minor setbacks," Molly waved dismissively. "This job is different. Easy in, easy out." "That's what you said about robbing that magician's convention," Bill grumbled. "I still have nightmares about being trapped in that trunk." Molly laughed, reaching across to pat his hand. "Trust me, this time it'll be a piece of cake. Speaking of which, make sure you save room for birthday cake. I hear the Turners hired that fancy bakery downtown." "So we're stealing presents AND eating cake?" Bill asked incredulously. "Absolutely," Molly nodded firmly. "It would be suspicious not to partake. We need to blend in." "You know," Bill said thoughtfully, "if we get caught robbing a six-year-old's birthday party, we'll never live it down in prison." "Then don't get caught," Molly replied cheerfully, gathering up their plans. "Besides, think of it as redistributing wealth. Robin Hood stole from the rich too." "Pretty sure Robin Hood didn't target children's birthday parties," Bill muttered. "Details," Molly said with a dismissive wave. "Now let's go practice making balloon animals."