Molly spread the hand-drawn map across the sticky diner table, knocking over a salt shaker in the process. The blueprint looked like it had been sketched by someone having a seizure on a roller coaster. "Alright, here's the layout," she said, tapping a crayon-drawn rectangle. "The presents will be stacked on this table near the bounce house. We go in through the back gate at exactly two fifteen." Bill squinted at the map and turned it sideways. "Why two fifteen?" "Because that's when the clown arrives. Every kid in that backyard will be hypnotized by balloon animals. It's our window." "I don't like clowns," Bill muttered, pulling nervously at his collar. "You don't have to like them. You just have to walk past one." "What if a kid sees us grabbing the gifts?" Molly leaned back and smiled with terrifying confidence. "We wear the vests. Nobody questions a person in a delivery vest. We walk in, stack the presents on the dolly, and walk out like we're doing our jobs." Bill chewed his thumbnail. "This feels low, Molly. Even for us." "Billy, those presents contain limited-edition Pokémon cards worth thousands. Now stop whining and memorize the exits."