Molly pressed her binoculars against the chain-link fence, watching a clown twist balloon animals in the backyard. "Seventeen presents on the gift table," she whispered. "Maybe eighteen. There's something behind the giant teddy bear." Bill crouched beside her, adjusting his fake mustache. "What's our window?" "Cake cutting. Every parent will have their phone out, filming little Timmy's sugar-fueled moment of glory." "It's actually little Emma." "Whatever. The point is, nobody watches the present table during cake." Bill pulled out a wrinkled map drawn on a napkin. "I go through the side gate, you create a distraction?" "I brought puppets," Molly said, patting her duffel bag. "Nothing distracts children like unexpected puppets." "That's either genius or deeply disturbing." "Why not both?" A mother walked past their hiding spot carrying a wrapped bicycle. Bill's eyes widened with naked greed. "That's got to be a twelve-speed." "Focus. We grab what we can carry and meet at the getaway minivan." "I still can't believe you stole a minivan." "Borrowed. Besides, nothing looks more innocent in a suburban neighborhood." Molly checked her watch. The clown was finishing his balloon giraffe. They had six minutes until cake.