Molly tapped her pencil against the blueprint spread across the kitchen table. The children's party venue looked simple enough—one main entrance, side door for catering, and a storage room where the gifts would be piled. "You sure about this, Bill? Stealing from kids seems low, even for us." Bill didn't look up from polishing his lock picks. "Those aren't just any kids, Moll. Those are Westfield brats. Parents drop ten grand on these parties like it's nothing." "Still..." Molly circled the storage room with red marker. "Remember how the Westfields got us blacklisted after the museum job?" Molly snorted. "Revenge via birthday presents. Classy." "We'll hit during the magician act. Everyone's distracted, we slip in the side door." Bill pointed at the blueprint. "Fifteen minutes tops." "What about the clown?" "What clown? There's no clown on the itinerary." Molly slid a party flyer across the table. "Bobo the Magnificent. Ex-military, according to my research." Bill's face fell. "An ex-military clown?" "Welcome to my nightmares," Molly replied, drawing a frowning clown face next to their planned entry point.