Molly pressed her face to the window and peered in, watching a gaggle of children bobbing for apples. Streamers dripped from the ceiling like a sugar rush gone mad. Balloons hovered ominously above a pile of brightly wrapped presents. A clown capered in the corner, slightly menacing in the low light. Bill crouched behind a bush, picking tufts of glitter from his jacket. "I still think the cake distraction is good," he hissed, eyes darting. Molly didn’t turn, smirking. "That’s because you want cake. Focus." He grumbled but craned for a better look. "Third door from the left is the back way in. We sneak during musical chairs. Chaos guaranteed." Molly squinted. "Last time you tried ‘musical chaos’ you dislocated your hip." "Nobody proved anything," Bill retorted indignantly, then added, "This time, I brought scented smoke bombs." "Balloons and scented bombs. Genius," Molly muttered, then nodded approvingly at the mountain of prizes. A shriek erupted inside as two children fought over a pinata bat. Molly grinned. "Let’s wait for the real frenzy to start." Bill patted his pockets. "Does confetti count as camouflage?" Molly chuckled, pulling on her glittering ski mask. "Tonight, everything does."