Molly spread the hand-drawn map across the sticky diner table, knocking over a salt shaker in the process. The blueprint, sketched on the back of a Denny's placemat, depicted the Henderson backyard in alarming detail. "Seventeen kids, two bouncy castles, and a clown," she said, tapping the placemat with a french fry. "The presents will be stacked on a folding table near the garage." Bill squinted at the drawing, turning it sideways. "Why is there a moat?" "That's the slip-and-slide, Bill. Focus." He straightened up and cracked his knuckles with the seriousness of a surgeon preparing for an eight-hour operation. "What about the clown? Clowns make me nervous." "The clown is a nineteen-year-old named Derek. He's not a threat." "You don't know that. You don't know what Derek is capable of." Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. The fluorescent diner lights buzzed overhead like judgmental insects. She had robbed a casino in Reno with fewer complications than this conversation. "We go in at cake time," she continued. "Every kid will be distracted. Every parent will be filming. We grab the presents and load the van." "What about Derek?" "Forget Derek!" "I can't forget Derek, Molly."