# The Birthday Plot Molly spread out the blueprint on the kitchen table, tapping her finger against the paper with the precision of a surgeon. Bill leaned in, squinting at the marked routes with the confidence of someone who couldn't actually read blueprints. "So the presents are here," Molly said, pointing to the living room. "Stacked by the fireplace." "Perfect," Bill replied. "How many kids are we talking?" "Twenty-three. They'll be distracted by a magician from two to two-thirty." Bill whistled low. "That's cutting it close. What about the parents?" "Drunk on mimosas in the kitchen. We'll have at least forty minutes if we time it right." Molly pulled out a folder containing photographs of the house. "The back entrance is through the patio. No alarm system." "What's your entry strategy?" Bill asked, helping himself to one of her cookies. "We pose as party favor delivery. I've got uniforms." She produced two neon vests from a bag beneath the table. "Nobody questions a delivery person at a children's party. They're too busy managing chaos." Bill examined the vest skeptically. "This is going to fit me?" "If you didn't eat so many cookies." Molly snatched the cookie from his hand. "We go in through the front, set down the boxes marked 'additional decorations,' then slip out back during the magician's rabbit act. That's when everyone's attention is locked forward." "And the actual theft?" Bill stood up, pacing toward the window. "Simple extraction. The presents are already wrapped and organized. We load them into the van in under eight minutes. Zip ties, military precision, in and out." "What about the birthday boy?" Bill turned back to face her. "Little Tommy's going to wonder where his presents went when the party ends." "That's the beauty of it," Molly said, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied grin. "His parents will assume the delivery company sent them to the wrong address. Insurance claim filed, presents replaced within two weeks. Nobody knows we were ever there." Bill walked back to the table, studying the blueprint once more. "The Hendersons won't report this as a theft?" "Why would they? There's no evidence of breaking and entering. We walked in like we belonged there." Molly tapped the blueprint again for emphasis. "We're invisible criminals, Bill. The perfect heist." "When do we execute?" Bill asked, finally convinced. "Saturday at two o'clock. I'll pick you up at one-thirty." Molly began rolling up the blueprints. "Wear dark clothes. Blend in." Bill grabbed another cookie as he headed toward the door. "This is either brilliant or insane." "Usually they're the same thing," Molly replied, already mapping out their escape route in her mind.