Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8WSYC3DYPRN1SW2S5DTMAG

Molly spread the crayon-drawn map across the hood of their battered sedan, smoothing out the corners with the kind of reverence usually reserved for ancient treasure charts. The target was a birthday party at 14 Sycamore Drive, hosted by one seven-year-old named Chloe, who apparently had wealthy parents and an extensive wish list. Bill had done the reconnaissance himself, spending forty minutes crouched behind a hedge in a neighborhood where everyone walked labradoodles. "There are at least thirty presents in there," Bill whispered. "Maybe more," Molly added. The intelligence was solid. The bouncy castle in the backyard provided adequate cover noise. The magician booked for two o'clock would distract the adults. The children themselves, hopped up on cake and juice boxes, would be entirely unpredictable wild cards, which Molly had color-coded in red on her risk assessment chart. "We go in through the side gate at two fifteen," she said firmly. She tapped the map twice for emphasis. Bill nodded gravely, adjusting the fake mustache he insisted on wearing despite it being completely unnecessary. Outside, a stray balloon drifted past their windshield like a rubber omen. Neither of them acknowledged how profoundly wrong this entire operation was.