Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY8G0C6XPXCJWEPPA120MNP

Molly and Bill huddled behind a prickly rose bush across from the community center, where a children’s party blared with off-key birthday songs and the tinny jingle of a pinata. Molly twisted a miniature lasso—swiped that morning from a dollar store toy aisle—around her calloused fingers, eyes locking on the floor-to-ceiling present table piled with neon-wrapped boxes tied with glittery ribbons. Bill clutched a dented bubble machine, its plastic casing cracked, and a crumpled map scribbled with his messy notes about the center’s unguarded back window. He shifted his weight, a loose nail from his boot catching on the bush’s thorns, and winced. Molly’s jaw tightened as a face-painted clown carried an armful of extra presents to the table. I fear this tiny lasso will fail to snag the stacked presents. My faulty bubble machine will now distract the face-painted clowns. Bill tapped the bubble machine’s trigger, a sputter of weak bubbles escaping, and he scrambled to tuck it into his coat before a passing parent glanced their way. Molly scribbled a correction on his map, pointing to a side door left ajar by a wandering toddler, and mouthed a reminder about the party’s 3 p.m. cake break—their planned window to strike without adult supervision cluttering the room where kids would cluster around the sparkler-topped confection, their giddy shrieks drowning out any faint sounds of their fumbling heist attempts as they crept toward the present table’s unguarded edge.