# The Birthday Caper Molly spread the blueprints across the table with the intensity of a general planning an invasion. Bill grabbed a donut and squinted at the pages. "So let me get this straight," Bill said, his mouth full. "We're robbing a seven-year-old's birthday party?" "Not just any party," Molly replied, tapping the diagram. "The Pemberton estate. Fifty kids. That's fifty wrapped presents minimum." "Have you lost your mind? We're professional criminals. We've stolen diamonds. We've hacked security systems." "Exactly why this will be easy," Molly said, pointing to the layout. "Look at the security. None. They have a man in a bear costume and Linda from next door supervising." Bill rubbed his temples. "What do we even need presents for? We're not gift-givers. Last Christmas I gave my mother a fire extinguisher." "Resale value, you idiot. Kid gifts are gold right now. Limited edition action figures, the new gaming consoles. We're talking forty, maybe fifty grand if we move them quick." "Fifty grand?" Bill's eyes lit up. "From a children's party?" "Parents spend obscene amounts of money on these things," Molly explained. "I've been casing this for weeks. Last Tuesday at the grocery store, I heard Mrs. Pemberton on the phone. She said and I quote, 'Spare no expense for little Timmy's special day.'" "So what's the plan?" Bill asked, finally interested. "We pose as party entertainers. You dress as a magician. I'm the face painter. At three o'clock, during the piñata chaos, we move to the garage where Linda stores all the presents before the gift table." "The gift table? They have a dedicated table for presents?" "Of course they do," Molly said. "These people are insane about organization. There's a whole spreadsheet. I saw it." Bill stood up and walked to the window. "This is crazy. This is absolutely bonkers. We've escaped from prison. We've rappelled off buildings. And now we're planning to swipe toys from children." "Children whose parents can afford to replace them ten times over," Molly countered. "Still feels weird," Bill muttered. "You said the same thing about the armored truck job, and we made three hundred thousand." Bill turned back to her. "When do we start?" "Friday. Two o'clock. I'll text you the costumes. Spend some time researching magic tricks. Nothing complicated. Simple stuff like card tricks. If kids suspect something's off, the whole operation falls apart." "I'll learn the classics," Bill said, grabbing another donut. "The disappearing coin, the floating card." "Great. And Bill? This time, don't tell anyone about it on social media." "That was one time," Bill protested. "You posted a selfie from inside the vault." He grinned sheepishly. "It was a good angle though."