Molly spread the hand-drawn map across the sticky diner table, knocking over the ketchup bottle for the third time. Bill caught it without looking up from his phone. "Put that thing away," Molly hissed. "We need to focus. The party starts at two. That gives us exactly one hour to get in, grab the presents, and get out before the clown arrives." "There's a clown?" Bill set his phone down. "Nobody said anything about a clown." "Of course there's a clown, Bill. It's a seven-year-old's birthday party. There's always a clown." "I don't work with clowns, Molly. You know that. Not after Reno." "Reno was different. That clown was an undercover cop." "They're all undercover cops as far as I'm concerned. Those big shoes, those little cars. It's surveillance, Molly. Wake up." She rubbed her temples and pointed to a square she'd drawn in blue crayon. "This is the bounce house. It'll be set up along the east side of the backyard. That's our entry point." "We're going through a bounce house?" "Over it. We scale the bounce house, drop down behind the gift table, load everything into the bags, and exit through the side gate." Bill squinted at the map. "Why is everything drawn in crayon?" "It was all I had. My pen exploded in the car." "And what's this brown blob?" "That's you." "I look like a potato." "Stay focused. Now, the mother is the real threat. Karen Henderson. She runs the PTA like a paramilitary operation. If she spots us, it's over. She will not hesitate to call the authorities and post about it on three separate Facebook groups." Bill shuddered. "What about the kids?" "What about them?" "Won't they, I don't know, notice two adults sprinting across their party with armfuls of presents?" "That's where the distraction comes in. I hired a second clown." "You just said there's already a clown!" "Right. So when two clowns show up, chaos. They'll argue over who's the real clown. The kids will lose their minds. Parents will be filming it for social media. Nobody's watching the gift table." Bill leaned back and crossed his arms. "That's either the dumbest plan I've ever heard or the most brilliant." "It's both. That's why it works." "And what are we expecting, present-wise? Are we talking good stuff or are we talking socks and educational toys?" "The Henderson kid asked for a PS5, three different Lego sets, and a drone. His parents are loaded and so are their friends." "A drone," Bill whispered reverently. "Keep your head in the game. We grab, we go, we split everything fifty-fifty at the storage unit." "What about the cake?" "What about it?" "Can we take the cake too?" Molly stared at him for a long moment, then slowly smiled. "Bill, this is why I keep you around." She folded the crayon map and slid it into her jacket. They had fifty-three minutes and a bounce house to climb.