Molly spread the blueprints across the dingy warehouse table, her magnifying glass hovering over the recreation center's floor plan. The children's birthday party would be the perfect cover. Nobody suspected criminals in a room full of screaming six-year-olds. "So we go in through the loading dock," Bill whispered, pointing at the diagram. "Right. Grab the presents during the chaos," Molly replied. She'd spent three weeks studying the venue, learning that Mrs. Henderson always stacked wrapped boxes in the corner near the punch bowl. An amateur mistake. The woman had basically created a gift fortress just waiting to be plundered. Bill adjusted his fake mustache nervously. They'd stolen diamonds, artwork, even a small yacht once. But children's birthday presents felt different somehow. More chaotic. Less predictable. One kid could ruin everything by deciding to unwrap something early. "What about the piñata?" Bill asked, concern crossing his face. "We work around it," Molly said flatly. She pulled out two ill-fitting clown costumes from her bag. They'd blend in perfectly with the hired entertainment. By noon, they'd be gone with their prize. By 12:15, parents would be too busy managing sugar-induced mayhem to notice anything amiss.