Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYAHVDCA7WQDQXQHPNX48RT

The neon glow of a flickering "Happy Birthday!" sign cast jagged shadows across the backyard as Molly adjusted the strap of her duffel bag, her breath fogging in the crisp autumn air. Bill leaned against the fence, twirling a candy cane between his fingers like a conductor’s baton, his grin sharp enough to cut glass. "You sure this is the night?" Bill asked, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Kids, balloons, cake—what’s the *heist* in that?" Molly rolled her eyes, tossing a small, velvet pouch into her bag. "Because, genius, they’re *not* paying attention. Parents are too busy pretending to be cool while their kids shove cupcakes in their faces. Meanwhile, I’m gonna walk in like I own the place, grab every single present, and be gone before the piñata even hits the ground." Bill snorted, kicking a loose pebble into the dirt. "You realize you’re describing a *kidnapper*, right? Not a thief." "Details," Molly said, flipping open a manila folder. "First, we go in through the side gate—unlocked, because *of course* the parents forgot to lock it. Then I distract the birthday kid with a ‘surprise’ balloon animal. You handle the presents while I keep the little monsters occupied." Bill’s eyebrows shot up. "You’re gonna *make* balloon animals?" "Only if I have to," Molly muttered, adjusting the wire cutters in her pocket. "But if the kid’s got a crush on that one girl in the corner with the sparkly dress, I’ll just tell him she’s *way* out of his league. Works every time." Bill chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re a menace." "Flattery won’t get you into this job," Molly shot back, pulling a small, silver key from her pocket. "But here’s the real kicker—this place has a *security system*? Nope. Just a bunch of parents who think ‘childproof’ means ‘child-ignored.’" Bill held up a finger. "Wait. You *planned* this around the fact that adults are terrible at security?" "Bingo," Molly said, grinning. "And while you’re busy lifting the presents, I’ll ‘accidentally’ knock over the punch bowl. Chaos equals opportunity. By the time they realize what’s happening, we’ll be long gone with enough toys to open a secondhand store." Bill let out a low whistle. "You’re evil." "Efficient," Molly corrected, checking her watch. "Now move. The cake’s being cut in five minutes, and I don’t want to be there when the ‘singing’ starts." Bill groaned, but he was already sliding through the gap in the fence. "You’re gonna regret this." Molly followed, her boots silent on the grass. "Nah. I’m gonna regret *not* doing this." The backyard lights flickered as the first strains of "Happy Birthday" began to waver in the distance. Somewhere, a balloon popped. Perfect.