Molly squinted through the binoculars at the suburban house festooned with balloons. "Fifteen kids, two clowns, and one very expensive bounce castle." "The presents are stacked by the patio door," Bill said, adjusting his fake mustache. "I count at least thirty boxes." "Thirty-two. You missed the ones behind the piñata." "Whatever. Point is, we go in during cake time." Molly lowered the binoculars. "You're seriously doing this?" "Lucy asked for a dollhouse. You know what those cost?" "So we're stealing from seven-year-olds?" "We're redistributing birthday wealth. Very different." "Bill—" "Look, I already rented the clown costume. Forty bucks, non-refundable." "You rented a clown costume to rob a birthday party." "It's called blending in." They watched a minivan arrive, disgorging more children. "What's your cover story?" Molly asked. "I'm Chuckles the Magnificent. The other clowns called in sick, so I'm covering their shift." "That's terrible." "You got better?" "I'm the balloon artist. Hernando hurt his back." "Who's Hernando?" "The balloon artist I just invented." Bill grinned. "See? You're getting into the spirit." "I hate you so much right now." "Save it for after we get Lucy her dollhouse."