Moonlight spilled through the lace curtains as Molly crouched behind the balloon-arch, ears straining for squeals and laughter. The living room glowed with string lights draped over candy-colored streamers. A mountain of bright-wrapped boxes sat on a plastic tablecloth, glittering like a treasure hoard. Her gloved fingers tingled in excitement. “Molly, are you seeing this?” Bill’s voice came in a low hiss. He peeked around the corner, eyes wide. “It’s like Santa’s secret stash, but better,” Molly whispered back, adjusting her backpack straps. Bill swallowed. “I thought kids’ parties were supposed to be easy pickings—paper hats, cake, sugar comas.” Molly shook her head. “This one’s clever. They installed a noise sensor tied to the playroom doorbell. One squeak and the whole neighborhood squad shows up.” Bill’s mouth flattened. “So what’s the plan?” Molly hopped forward, tracing a layout in the dusty carpet. “We split. I take the west wing where the gift table sits. You disable the sensor by jamming its microphone with duct tape. Then we rendezvous outside with the loot.” Bill peeked at the sensor blinking red atop a toy shelf. “Sounds simple enough—until the cake whistle blows and those kids morph into tiny detectives.” Molly grinned. “We’ll be long gone by then. Timing is everything.” They slipped forward. Bill knelt beside the sensor, ignoring the squeak of his too-loose shoe. He pressed a silver roll of tape against the mesh grille and wrapped it carefully. “Got it,” he whispered triumphantly. The light blinked once, then went dark. Molly stifled a cheer as she darted toward the present pile. Each gift looked more tempting than the last—sparkly boxes, silly toy sets, plush unicorns with sequined manes. “Move fast,” Bill murmured, stepping back into the shadows. “I heard footsteps.” Molly plucked a glitter-wrapped package and slid it into her pack. More followed: a remote-control race car, building blocks, even a ridiculously large teddy bear. “Fifteen gifts and counting,” she breathed, sweat beading at her hairline. Bill checked his watch. “Party ends in two minutes. Sound the retreat before they eat all the cake.” Molly zipped her backpack. “On three?” “One…two…” Bill clicked off his flashlight. “Three!” Molly sprinted toward the front door, teddy bear in her arms. They darted down the hallway just as the chandelier light flared on. A fry-faced hostess swept around the corner. “What are you—?” Molly and Bill froze for half a heartbeat. Then they exchanged grins, slipped through the doorway, and vanished into the night. Behind them, the hostess blinked at the empty hall and the single stray unicorn horn lying on the floor.