Molly spread the hand-drawn map across the sticky diner table, nearly knocking over Bill's coffee in the process. "So the target is here," she said, jabbing her finger at a crayon-colored rectangle. "Little Timmy Henderson's seventh birthday party. Saturday at two." Bill squinted at the map. "Did you draw this on a placemat?" "Focus, Bill. This is the big one." "It's a children's party, Molly." "Exactly. Do you have any idea how many presents a seven-year-old gets these days? We're talking tablets, gaming consoles, those little robot dogs that flip. The haul could be massive." Bill rubbed his temples. "I went to prison for eighteen months. Eighteen months, Molly. And you want me to risk my freedom for a pile of toys wrapped in Paw Patrol paper?" "First of all, the paper is probably Minecraft themed. Timmy's demographic skews older. Second, nobody suspects party thieves. It's a victimless crime." "The children are literally the victims." "Children are resilient. Besides, his parents are loaded. They'll just buy more stuff. We're basically redistributing wealth." "To ourselves." "To ourselves, yes. That's how redistribution works, Bill." A waitress refilled their coffees. They smiled politely until she left. "Walk me through the plan," Bill sighed. Molly's eyes lit up. "Okay, so the party starts at two. The presents will be piled on a table near the bounce house. That's our primary extraction point." "You want me to fight through a bounce house full of second graders?" "No, no. The bounce house is a distraction. Kids can't resist it. While they're bouncing, we slip in through the side gate, grab the presents, and load them into the van." "What van?" "The van I'm going to rent. Try to keep up." "And nobody notices two adults stealing an enormous pile of wrapped gifts?" "We'll be wearing disguises. I got us matching clown costumes." Bill stared at her for a long moment. "Clown costumes." "Nobody questions clowns at a birthday party, Bill. It's psychological camouflage." "I'm not wearing a clown costume." "Fine, you can be the balloon guy. Same principle." "What about the parents? The other adults?" "They'll be inside drinking wine and complaining about property taxes. Trust me, I've done surveillance. These people don't supervise anything." "You've been watching children's parties?" "For reconnaissance purposes only. Don't make it weird." Bill looked at the placemat map again. Someone had drawn a dinosaur in the corner eating what appeared to be a birthday cake. "What's our exit strategy?" "We walk calmly to the van with our arms full of presents. If anyone asks, we say we're taking them inside for the big reveal. People love a big reveal." "This is insane." "This is genius. There's a fine line." "There really isn't." Molly folded the map carefully, tucking it into her jacket. "Saturday at two. Wear comfortable shoes. Those little driveways are murder on the knees."