Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8WZ0C2CMFZBH7QJN53M39T

Molly spread the hand-drawn map across the hood of the rusting van and smoothed out the corners with her palms. The map depicted a cul-de-sac, a house with a bounce castle drawn in the backyard, and seventeen X marks where she suspected the presents would be located. "I counted at least forty kids going in," she said, tapping the paper. "That's forty presents minimum. Could be more if the parents overcompensate, which, based on the size of that bouncy castle, they absolutely do." Bill squinted at the map and then at the actual house twenty yards away. Balloons bobbed above the fence. Somewhere beyond it, a child was screaming with what could have been either delight or genuine distress. "You drew the bounce castle way too big on this map," Bill said. "It's not to scale, Bill." "Nothing on here is to scale. You've drawn yourself taller than the house." "That's irrelevant." Molly snatched the map back and folded it badly. "Here's the plan. The party runs until four. At three forty-five, the cake comes out. Every single person in that backyard will be staring at the cake. Parents, kids, the clown, everyone." "There's a clown?" "There's a clown." Bill went quiet for a moment, processing this with visible discomfort. "I don't like this job anymore." "You didn't like it before either, so nothing has changed. While the cake has everyone hypnotized, we go in through the side gate, load the presents into the van, and we're gone before anyone sings the second verse of Happy Birthday." "People sing the second verse?" "Some families do. Weird families. Families exactly like this one." Molly pointed firmly at the house. "Focus. The presents are piled on the porch. I saw them when little Emma arrived with what appeared to be a gift bag containing an entire toy kitchen." Bill rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Taking toys from children on their birthday is genuinely quite low, Molly. I want to say that out loud before we proceed." "We are returning them tomorrow." "Are we?" "Probably. The point is we need the insurance photographs for the claim, and we cannot submit a claim for presents we no longer have without first having had them." Bill stared at her. "That is the most complicated logic you have ever used." "Thank you." "It wasn't a compliment." A horn sounded from inside the property and the screaming intensified. Both thieves ducked instinctively behind the van, hearts hammering. Then the screaming dissolved into laughter, and a pop song about friendship began playing at a volume that suggested the parents had already started drinking. Molly checked her watch. "Forty minutes. We synchronize now." Bill looked at his bare wrist. "I forgot my watch." "Bill." "I overslept." "Bill." "The alarm didn't go off because I forgot to set it because I was nervous about the clown." Molly breathed slowly through her nose and began counting to ten. She only needed seven.