Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYA30NZRVWV6225SDT3D70F

Molly adjusted her ski mask and grinned at Bill, who was already crouched by the back door, picking the lock with a bobby pin like it was a toothpick. "Alright, genius," Molly whispered, "you got the door, I got the distraction. Remember, we’re not here to hurt the kids—just their *stuff*." Bill glanced up, his face half-hidden in shadow. "Oh, I *remember*. Last time we did a ‘no harm’ job, you knocked over a goldfish bowl and called it ‘liquid collateral damage.’" "Details! And that fish was *ancient*. Like, it had its own Social Security number." A loud giggle echoed from inside. Bill froze. "Did you hear that? That’s not a kid. That’s a *demon child*." Molly rolled her eyes. "It’s just a kid laughing. Now *shush*—I’m going in to ‘accidentally’ spill juice on the piñata." Bill grabbed her arm. "Wait—what if the piñata’s *booby-trapped*?" "Then we’ll call it ‘artisanal confetti.’ Now *move*." The door clicked open. Bill whispered, "You’re the worst partner ever." Molly winked. "And you’re the only one who puts up with me. Now *go*."