The van smelled of stale crisps and regret. Through the grimy windshield, children’s laughter sounded like mocking alarm bells. Molly jabbed a finger at her crudely drawn map, a grease-stained napkin. “The gift pile is here, next to the cake. Maximum vulnerability.” Bill lowered his binoculars, a dreamy expression on his face. “They have a bouncy castle, Mol. It’s shaped like a dragon.” “I’m aware of the dragon. Are you aware of the plan?” “Infiltration via the clown’s entrance window. Got it.” “You cause a diversion by the juice bar.” Molly traced a red line with a chipped nail. “A small, believable diversion.” “I was thinking I’d ‘accidentally’ challenge the birthday boy’s dad to a dance-off.” Molly sighed, the sound of a dying balloon. “Just spill the punch, Bill.” “Fine. Punch it is.” He slumped in his seat. “Then I grab the loot. We rendezvous behind Mrs. Higgins’s prize-winning petunias. Code word?” Bill sat up straight, his professional demeanor returning instantly. “The unicorn has left the stable.” “Good.” Molly folded the napkin. “Let’s just hope the unicorn isn’t real. A real pony would definitely complicate the getaway.”