Run: 2026-02-16-01KHKAKAKD3WM3J6GGKZ8NJ5DQ

Molly crouched behind the bouncy castle like it was a bank vault, its vinyl walls breathing strawberry-scented air. Bill held binoculars upside down, whispering updates to no one in particular, while a clown marched past carrying a tray of juice boxes like cash. The backyard glittered with streamers and the kind of vigilant parents who could spot a lie from across a sandbox. They had cased museums and mansions, but nothing prepared them for the strategic chaos of eight-year-olds. A piñata hung in the center like a dangling alarm system. Each shriek from the slip ’n slide made Bill flinch, as if the lawn itself might call the cops. Molly checked her pockets: gloves, zip ties, a tiny crowbar, and a party hat for “blend-in” purposes. Bill had brought a duffel bag labeled DONATIONS, which felt optimistic. “After cake, we slip in. Quiet hands.” Molly winked. Bill swallowed. “If they ask our names, Bill?” “Smile; parents forget adults, kids forget all,” she said. Across the fence, the birthday child opened a gift, and the crowd roared. Molly’s eyes narrowed, reverent. Tonight, they weren’t stealing treasure. They were stealing joy in bulk, gift-wrapped and taped crookedly, waiting to be liberated carefully.