# The Birthday Bonanza Molly adjusted her night vision goggles and surveyed the suburban ranch house through the kitchen window. String lights twinkled across the backyard. Bouncy castles. A petting zoo. It was a fortress of frivolity. "This is insane," Bill whispered, crouching beside her with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. "Insane is your middle name," Molly replied, checking her watch. "The party ends at five. We go in at five-fifteen." "No, seriously. We've stolen diamonds from the Crown Jewels. We've infiltrated the Federal Reserve. And now we're breaking into a six-year-old's birthday party?" Molly turned to face him, her expression unreadable in the darkness. "Your nephew loves action figures. Tommy's birthday party has four limited-edition collectibles in that living room." "So buy them," Bill said, throwing his hands up. "Amazon exists." "They're discontinued. Sold out everywhere." She pulled out a hastily sketched floor plan on crumpled paper. "Besides, when was the last time we did something fun?" Bill stared at her. "We literally broke into the Louvre last month." "That was work. This is sport." Molly stuffed the paper back into her jacket. "The parents will be loading up the cars. The kids are exhausted and glued to a movie in the den. We have a forty-minute window." "What about the clown?" Bill gestured toward the backyard where a man in full makeup was currently deflating balloon animals. "He's going to see us." "He's already seeing things that aren't there. Did you see those balloon dogs? Two had seven legs." Molly stood, brushing dirt from her knees. "The side gate is locked, but the fence has that weak spot near the pergola. You slip through, grab the gift pile from the porch, and I'll meet you at the northwest corner." "Why do I always get the outdoor work?" Bill complained, but he was already moving toward the fence line. "Because you're better at it," Molly called softly after him, which was a lie. She was better at everything. But flattery had always been her most effective heist tool. Bill reached the weak fence spot and began working loose the boards. He muttered under his breath, "I went to Yale. Yale, Molly. I was supposed to be an investment banker." "And now you're an investment in birthday joy," she replied, slipping through the opening behind him. "Be grateful." The backyard was a minefield of abandoned toys and plastic cups. A deflated bounce house sagged against the fence like a dead elephant. The petting zoo—consisting of two goats and a confused alpaca—paid them no attention. Bill grabbed the overflowing gift pile while Molly photographed the action figures through the living room window, confirming their targets. The clown was now attempting to pull a rubber chicken from his pants. "We're bad people," Bill said as they retreated toward the fence. "The worst," Molly agreed, already mentally cataloging Tommy's face when he opened those four perfect gifts tomorrow. Some crimes, she thought, were definitely worth it.