Molly crouched behind a row of plastic chairs at the back of the community hall. Streamers draped in pastel ribbons fluttered from the ceiling, and the sugary smell of cupcakes filled the air. She pressed a small earpiece to her ear and adjusted her sleek black gloves. Nearby, Bill examined a blueprint of the snack table with a glow in the dark marker. A low murmur of children’s laughter echoed through the open doorway, punctuated by the squeaks of party horns. Molly took a steadying breath, feeling the familiar mix of nerves and excitement settle in her chest. Molly: "Is the guard dog on a leash tonight, or have we got free range?" Bill: "No leash. The owner’s out of town. I cased it this morning." Molly: "Great. When the kids open presents, we swoop in like sugar-starved hawks." Bill: "Right. But diversion first. You distract the birthday girl with balloons." Molly: "Balloons are boring. I have confetti poppers rigged to go at zero hour." Bill: "Confetti will send them into a sugar coma. Perfect cover." Molly: "How many conspirators did you recruit? We need greedy kids on our side." Bill: "Just me and you. Plus two bored clowns working the punch bowl." Molly: "Clowns. Right. They owe me big time. Last time was a disaster." Bill: "Better be ready when the cake arrives. That’s our signal." Molly: "I never miss a signal, Bill." Molly peeked through the row of chairs, grinning at the circus of mismatched costumes around the table. Balloons bobbed like pastel jellyfish, and the birthday cake rested on a velvet pedestal, beckoning them both. Bill clicked his tongue, checking his watch again, the minute hand creeping closer to signal time. A distant shout from the host’s mother sent a flurry of confetti into the air as planned. The children turned in surprise, their eyes wide and sticky with anticipation. Molly: "That’s our cue. Balloon drop, pandemonium, then we move." Bill: "Got it. I’ll slip in while everyone screams in delight." Molly: "Watch the power strip. Presents are under the stage light." Bill: "Why the strip? Too dark without it?" Molly: "Exactly. Shadows are our friends. The gifts will shine." Bill: "I love a good shine. Especially on glittery wrapping paper." Molly: "Once we grab the piles, we exit stage right." Bill: "Exit stage right? Isn’t that toward the pinata?" Molly: "Pinata’s a decoy. Real exit is through the kitchen door." Bill: "Kitchen's cluttered with spilled juice and unguarded trays." Molly: "Perfect. I’ll cart the loot through the back hallway." Bill: "Just don’t trip over any stray capes tonight." Molly: "Hurry. We have five minutes before cake cutting." Bill: "If we clear out too soon, they’ll notice missing gifts." Bill shook his head and whispered, checking the valve on a helium tank behind the snack table. Molly hopped to the table edge, her fingertips grazing brightly wrapped boxes stacked like Lego towers. The afternoon sun slipped through stained-glass windows, casting colorful patches across their path. Both thieves exchanged triumphant glances as the popcorn machine gurgled ominously nearby, hiding their footsteps. Coal dust and glitter clung to the soles of their boots unnoticed.