Molly unrolled a blueprint sketched on the back of a pizza box, the grease stains obscuring key details. She jabbed a finger at a crudely drawn square. “Okay, Operation Sugar Rush. This is the gift pile. Our objective.” Bill traced the smudged perimeter with a trembling finger, the van’s air freshener doing little to mask his anxiety. “It’s right next to the bouncy castle, Mols.” He gestured wildly. “That’s the belly of the beast. The epicenter.” “Relax. My diversion will be legendary.” She leaned back with a confident smirk. “I’m going in as ‘Fun-Time Frankie,’ a magician of questionable qualifications.” “A magician? Your only trick is making my life savings disappear.” Bill buried his face in his hands. “What’s the diversion?” “I’m going to saw the birthday cake in half. Classic misdirection.” He peeked through his fingers, horrified. “You can’t saw a cake!” “Not with that attitude. While they’re dealing with the buttercream carnage, you swoop in, grab the goods, and we’re gone.” It was a plan so audacious, so utterly stupid, that it almost sounded brilliant. Almost. “It's foolproof,” she added.