Bill tiptoed to the window and whispered, “See any clowns, Mol?” Molly crouched beside him, peering in. “Three, maybe four. One is juggling. Do you think he doubles as security?” “Only if balloon dogs bite. Where’ve they stashed the presents?” Molly pointed. “Under the folding table behind the punch bowl. Pink tablecloth, rainbow balloons. Easy access.” Bill squinted. “Is that a piñata or a disguise?” She smirked. “Piñata, Bill. If they’d stuffed it with jewels, we wouldn’t be here, would we?” “I’m just saying, if it starts moving, we run.” Molly jabbed his arm. “Focus. Distraction plan?” Bill nodded. “Kid number three is about to light her hair on fire. If I ‘accidentally’ trip the stereo and blast the Chicken Dance, chaos ensues.” “Bill, last time you tried that, twenty-three cupcakes died.” He shrugged, grinning. “Collateral frosting. You ready?” She rolled her eyes. “Just don’t trip over the magician this time.” Bill’s grin widened. “Deal. On three?” Molly nodded. “One—” “Wait!” Bill hissed. “What about the dog?” Molly waved a squeaky toy from her pocket. “Read my mind. We good now?” He winked. “We were born ready, Mol.” She grinned. “Present raid is a go.”