Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYA6GJD2DNEAXM7Y41JYWNK

The neon glow of the party’s disco ball cast jagged shadows across the hallway, where Molly adjusted her ski mask with a flourish. Bill, already half-asleep from the sugar rush of stolen cupcakes, groaned as he wiggled his way into position behind the cake stand. The door creaked open just as a kid’s laughter echoed down the stairs, and Molly’s fingers tightened around the lockpick—*almost there*. Bill’s eyes fluttered open. “You’re *not* doing this alone, are you?” His voice was thick with sleep, but his grip on the fire extinguisher he’d “borrowed” from the kitchen was firm. Molly grinned, her breath fogging the mask. “Of course not. You’re my *partner in crime*—and my *only* partner in crime.” She nudged him with her elbow. “The presents are under the tree. The tree’s under the *very* same tree.” Bill blinked. “The tree’s got *eyes*.” “Shut up and focus,” Molly snapped, but she couldn’t resist a laugh as the first child’s sneakers scuffed against the floor, signaling the party was about to start. Bill’s eyes darted to the window. “We’re *not* getting caught.” “No,” Molly agreed, “but we *are* getting rich.” She pressed the lockpick with a satisfied *click*, and the door swung open just as the first gift bag was tossed onto the couch. Bill lunged, snatching a wrapped present before it hit the floor. “This one’s *mine*.” Molly snatched another, then another, her fingers flying over the counter as the partygoers’ shouts faded into the distance. Bill, now fully awake, grabbed a second fire extinguisher—“just in case”—and they vanished into the night, leaving only the faint scent of sugar and stolen dreams behind.