Molly pressed her face to the window, ducking as a clown juggled by. "You see that, Bill? That’s the fifth unicorn gift bag in two minutes." Bill straightened his mustache. "You just want the cake, admit it." "Not for me. My dentist is already suspicious. Now, the plan—simple, in, out, gone before the pinata explodes." "Explodes? You said nothing about explosives. Last time my eyebrows didn’t grow back until November." "Metaphorically explodes, genius. Listen, we slip in with the magician. Kids love magic, right?" "If we get wands, I want a real one. No more fake flower tricks." Molly rolled her eyes. "Focus. Presents are stacked by the window. Grab, dash, boom." He grinned. "I like the boom part. But what about the small army of five-year-olds hyped on cupcake frosting?" "That's your department. You’re great with children. Remember? Babysitting your cousin's lizard counts." "She still has a scar. So, what, balloons as a distraction?" "Balloons, glitter, I don’t care, just dazzle them. If you get stuck, start juggling." Bill whistled as the clown tripped over his own shoes. "You sure we can’t just buy a present?" Molly smirked. "Where’s the fun in that?"