Molly poked her head around the corner, eyes gleaming. "Bill, are you sure about this? Stealing from a bunch of five-year-olds?" Bill grinned, adjusting his cap. "Come on, Molly. It's the easiest score we've ever had. No security, no guards—just a bunch of tiny humans and their glittery chaos." She folded her arms. "That’s what worries me. What if the kids catch us?" He chuckled. "Then we’ll just tell ’em Santa sent us. Besides, who’s gonna miss a few misplaced teddy bears and glittery tiaras?" Molly rolled her eyes. "You’re terrible. Okay, but how do we get in? The front door’s rigged with a loud bell." Bill pointed at a side window. "Roof access. I checked—it’s unlocked. We go in quiet, snag the loot, and be out before anyone notices." She hesitated. "And if we get caught?" He winked. "We say we’re just preschool inspectors. ‘Special delivery from Santa,’ remember?" Molly giggled despite herself. "You’re impossible, Bill." He smirked. "And that’s why I’m the best at this." She took a deep breath. "Alright, let’s do this before my mother finds out I skipped my college reading tonight."