Molly crouched behind the hedge, peering through the gaps at the balloon-festooned backyard. “You seeing what I’m seeing?” she whispered. Bill pressed his face against the leaves. “You bet. A bouncy castle, at least eighteen screaming children, and a cake big enough to hide a car. Where’re the presents?” “Under the pavilion. See? Cheap paper, gaudy bows. That’s what we’re here for.” “I thought we were here for cake,” Bill muttered, eyes fixed on the chocolate monstrosity. “You said there’d be cake.” “I said there’d be cake, but I meant there’d be a distraction. We focus on the presents. You want frosting on your nose again?” He sniffed in mock offense. “That was one time, Molly. Besides, that clown had it coming.” “That clown is still here. Look, he’s eyeing the passersby like a hawk.” “A hawk with floppy shoes and an existential crisis. Did you see his eyebrows?” “Bill, focus. Plan A?” He tapped his temple. “We’re in, out, bags stuffed, nobody cries except maybe the clown.” “Plan A requires subtlety, Bill, not your, uh, signature flair.” “You wound me. I can be as subtle as a—well, I can be subtle. Trust me.” She grinned. “I trust you about as far as I could throw that bouncy castle.” “I’m taller than that bouncy castle.” “Not that much.” He sighed, fishing a party hat from his pocket. “All right. I sneak in as ‘Uncle Billy,’ chasing an escaped balloon. You hover by the gate as my handler. The kids? Distracted by sugar and clown nose. We load the presents into this—” he yanked out a glittering unicorn-themed duffel bag—“and stroll out like two responsible adults.” Molly blinked. “That’s… alarmingly solid.” He bowed with a flourish. “I’ve had practice. This isn’t my first kiddie rodeo. You got the confetti smoke bombs?” “Pocket number three. Think they’ll buy you as someone’s uncle?” “I exude avuncular charm. Watch.” He contorted his face, stuck out his belly, and wheezed, “Anybody seen my gluten-free, vegan, un-iced, non-cake snack?” She snorted behind her hands. “You’re terrifying. They’ll probably call the fire department.” “All the better! While the grownups panic, we grab the loot.” “And the cake?” “No cake, Molly. Stick to the plan.” She nudged him. “Want to bet you won’t eat at least one cupcake before we’re done?” He hesitated. “Define ‘eat.’” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s focus. We time it for the piñata, right? Less supervision.” He nodded eagerly. “Children focused. Grownups distracted. Presents unguarded.” She clipped a walkie-talkie to his shirt. “Earpiece in?” He shoved it in, grimacing. “These things mess with my equilibrium.” “You don’t have any equilibrium.” He grinned. “And yet, I’m the best thief you know.” “You’re the only thief I know who’d wear a party hat as a disguise.” “Uncle Billy is a trendsetter. Ready?” Molly took a deep breath. “Let’s do this. You go left, I’ll—Bill, what are you doing with that cupcake?” He froze, icing on his chin. “Reconnaissance.” She huffed, pulling him up by the arm. “Unbelievable. Come on, Uncle Billy. Let’s get those presents before you end up in the time-out corner.”