Molly pressed her ear against the back door of the Sunshine Community Center and nodded. "I can hear at least thirty kids in there. Maybe forty." "That's a lot of witnesses," Bill said, adjusting his fake mustache nervously. "They're six-year-olds, Bill. Who's going to believe them?" "Fair point." He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "So we're really doing this? Stealing birthday presents from a child?" "Not a child. Children. Plural. It's little Timmy Henderson's party, and his parents invited half the neighborhood." Molly grinned. "Do you know what half the neighborhood gives as presents?" "Toys?" "Gift cards, Bill. Beautiful, untraceable gift cards. The Hendersons are loaded, and all their friends are trying to impress them." Bill's eyes widened. "How much are we talking?" "I'm estimating two grand, minimum. Maybe three if Grandma Henderson showed up with her usual hundred-dollar bills tucked into cards." "That's insane. Who gives a six-year-old a hundred dollars?" "Rich grandmas, that's who." Molly tested the doorknob. Locked, obviously. She pulled out her lockpick set. "Now here's the plan. The presents are in the main hall, stacked on a table by the east window. I checked it out during setup this morning." "You attended the setup?" "I volunteered. Brought cupcakes and everything." "You made cupcakes?" "I bought them, Bill. Focus." She worked the lock methodically. "The kids are doing a treasure hunt in the back gardens right now. That gives us maybe fifteen minutes." "Fifteen minutes? That's not enough time!" "It is if you stop complaining. We go in, grab the present table's tablecloth, bundle everything up like Santa's sack, and walk out the front door." "Someone will see us!" "Everyone's outside with the kids. Except Mrs. Palmer, who's in the kitchen icing the cake. She's practically deaf." The lock clicked. Molly smiled and slowly opened the door. "Wait," Bill hissed. "What if there's security cameras?" "There aren't. I checked. The community center's been meaning to install them for months, but the board can't agree on the budget." "How do you know that?" "I read the meeting minutes. They're posted online." Molly slipped inside, and Bill followed reluctantly. "You really need to do more research, Bill. That's why you got caught last time." "That was different. The homeowner came back early." "Because it was Tuesday. Piano lessons are always on Tuesday." They crept down the hallway. Children's laughter echoed from somewhere outside, mixed with an adult voice counting loudly. "Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred! Ready or not, here I come!" "That's our cue," Molly whispered. They rounded the corner into the main hall. There it was: a magnificent table overflowing with wrapped presents, shimmering gift bags, and bulging envelopes. "It's beautiful," Bill breathed. "It's payday. Now grab that corner."