Molly crouched behind a cluster of rose bushes, adjusting her black gloves with the kind of precision that suggested she’d done this exact thing a thousand times before. Bill shuffled nervously beside her, glancing repeatedly toward the brightly lit house. The faint sounds of children shouting and the occasional burst of laughter filtered through the night air. “So, remind me again why we’re hitting a kids' birthday party,” Bill whispered, his voice a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “Isn’t this kind of... wrong?” Molly shot him a look sharp enough to cut diamonds. “Wrong? Bill, we’re thieves. We don’t do wrong; we do what pays. And what pays is over there,” she nodded toward the house, “mounds of unguarded, perfectly wrapped presents. Stuffed with toys, gadgets, and probably candy. This is a gold mine.” Bill rubbed his hands together, the sound unnerving against the quiet. “Yeah, but these are kids, Molly. They’ve got parents around. What if the parents catch us?” Molly’s grin flickered like a streetlamp in a storm. “That’s why we’re going in quick. In and out. Like ninjas. Like ghosts. Like—not getting caught.” “‘Like ninjas’?” Bill scoffed softly. “Last time, you tripped over the cat and nearly set off the car alarm.” “That cat was a traitor,” Molly retorted. “It had it out for me. Anyway, this place is a fortress compared to last time. I did my homework.” “Homework?” Bill raised an eyebrow. “When did you become a student?” “Not the point.” Molly pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “Look. See the backyard? There’s a side gate that doesn’t lock properly. I scoped it this afternoon when the parents were setting up.” Bill stared at the scribbled sketch. “You really went to a kid’s party alone, just to case it?” Molly’s lips twitched. “I’m dedicated. Plus, they had cake. You ever had birthday cake at a hostage negotiation? Tough sell.” Bill chuckled. “Okay, okay. So, you’ve got the entrance, the layout. What about escape?” “Easy. After we grab everything, we exit through the front door where I’ll have my getaway scooter hidden behind the mailbox. It’s electric and fast—top speed, twenty miles per hour.” Bill’s eyes widened. “A scooter? You might as well leave a trail of glitter and giggles behind us.” Molly flicked a finger in his direction. “Mock all you want, but it’s silent and perfect for tight corners. Plus, it has a basket.” Bill shook his head. “Alright, so we sneak in through the gate, fill the sack with prizes, scooter out like the wind. And what about the kids? What if they see us?” “Disguises.” Molly patted her head. “I found these rat masks. Full face. Creepy enough to scare the parents but innocent enough for kids to mistake us for… err… those weird balloon animals?” “Balloon animals don’t usually have glowing red eyes,” Bill muttered. “Details, details,” Molly said lightly. “We keep our heads down and move fast. No small talk. No selfies with the birthday boy.” Bill sighed. “Fine. When do we start?” “Ten minutes.” Molly glanced at her watch. “Before the sugar crash kicks in and everyone crashes on the couch. That’s our window.” Bill looked out at the house one last time, then back at Molly. “You think we can pull this off without anyone ending up crying? I’m not great with crying.” Molly smiled, handing him a pair of rat eyes that glowed faintly in the dark. “If anyone cries, it’s because they’ll miss the best presents ever.” Bill took the mask, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Alright, partner. Let’s rob a party.” “Partners in crime,” Molly agreed, grinning. “And birthday cake.”