Molly spread the hand-drawn map across the sticky diner table, smoothing out the crayon-labeled rooms with her palm. The blueprint had cost them two juice boxes and a favor from her nephew, who attended kindergarten with the target's youngest. She tapped a finger on the back patio, where seventeen wrapped presents would be stacked on a folding table between the hours of two and four on Saturday afternoon. Bill studied the layout through his reading glasses, which were held together at the bridge with electrical tape. He traced the route from the side gate through the garden, past the inflatable bounce house, and toward the gift table. The bounce house concerned him. It was enormous, shaped like a dragon, and would block their escape route if the wind shifted. "We go during cake," Molly whispered. "The parents will see us." "Not if we wear the costumes." She pulled two matching purple dinosaur outfits from her duffle bag. Bill held his up against his chest. The tail dragged on the floor. The head smelled like mothballs and regret. He nodded slowly, already calculating how many presents could fit inside the oversized dinosaur belly. Molly grinned, zipping her bag shut with the confidence of a woman who had done worse for less.