Molly adjusted her night vision goggles. "You sure the clown is the weak link?" "Positive," Bill whispered, pointing at the bouncy castle. "He does balloon animals from two to three. That's our window." "What about the magician?" "Distracted by the cake. Chocolate, two tiers. The parents dropped four grand on this party." "Four grand?" Molly checked her grappling hook. "These toddlers living better than us." "Welcome to Silicon Valley." Bill unrolled the blueprints. "We go in through the side gate, avoid the petting zoo, grab the gaming consoles first. Kid's got a PS5, unopened." "And if we're caught?" "We blend in. I memorized 'Baby Shark.'" Molly stared at him. "You didn't." "On key. Every verse." Bill pulled two party hats from his trench coat. "Phase one: look like we belong." "Bill, we're thirty-year-olds wearing all black at a princess theme party." "Exactly. We're the goth uncles." "We're stealing from a five-year-old." "A five-year-old with a trust fund. Besides, look at this loot list—Lego Death Star, three hundred dollars in gift cards, and a life-sized plush giraffe." "How do we fence a giraffe?" "We don't. We ride it into the sunset." "You're insane." "I'm prepared. Now grab the piñata bag and move."