"It’s too bright, Molly," Bill grumbled, shading his eyes with one hand. "The afternoon sun is giving me a migraine." "Shh," she hissed, pressing a finger to her lips, despite standing three feet from the maximum security gates. "Look at the target. That over-stuffed piñata hanging on the porch is practically a neon sign for 'Free Stuff'." "It’s just cardboard, Molly. Besides, we are professionals. We don't target the weak." "It’s not about weakness, it’s about opportunity. The adults are distracted by the margarita machine. We just need to slit that tent rope." "What happens when the kids realize their toys are gone?" "They get to watch the big kids play," she said, cracking a gloved knuckle. "Win-win." "I hope that piñata is filled with gold." "Let’s just get in, Bill. Keep your voice down."