Molly adjusted the ridiculous clown nose, peering through the bushes at a garden full of shrieking, sugar-fuelled chaos. A bouncy castle pulsed like a giant, diseased heart, and a piñata shaped like a unicorn swung ominously in the breeze. It was a target-rich environment, but also a minefield of sticky fingers and parental judgment. “It’s a fortress of joy,” Bill whispered, his face smudged with greasepaint he insisted was tactical camouflage. He was trying to tie a balloon animal, which currently resembled a depressed purple squid. “The presents are by the slide. A big, glittery pile.” Molly snorted, watching a small child projectile-vomit into a flowerbed. “A lovely welcome wagon. Once we’re in, you create a diversion. Something big.” Bill finally abandoned the balloon, letting it hiss into a sad, deflated knot. “I was thinking of challenging the birthday boy to a dance-off. It’ll be glorious, and utterly humiliating.” He puffed out his chest. “They’ll never see the present snatch coming.” Molly gave a slow, approving nod. “Okay. But try not to make any of them cry. We’re thieves, not monsters.”