Molly slammed the clipboard onto the dashboard of their rusted sedan, shaking rain off her trench coat as she glared across the street at the chaotic Victorian home. Outside, colorful balloons bobbed in the wind like they were nervous. "We need a distraction, Bill. The parents are barricaded in the kitchen," she ordered, pointing a grease-stained finger at the windows. "We can't just walk in." Bill leaned back, looking miserable at the approaching thunderstorm. "Why? We’ve done worse, Mol. We stole that grandma’s dentures last week. This should be easy." "It’s not dentures, it’s high-tech iPads and a Nintendo Switch," Molly corrected. "And the security system is Wi-Fi enabled. That means I can hack it, but you need to distract the nine-year-old guarding the front door." "I’m a criminal, not a babysitter," Bill grumbled, but unbuckled his seatbelt with a heavy sigh. "Do it for the loot. Think of the mountain of candy," she urged, slapping his thigh. "Just don't be caught wearing the clown nose I picked up at the thrift store." Bill stared at the dashboard for a long moment. "Fine. But if I have to wear the nose, I'm sleeping in the van."