Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8X3QPZXGQMSKEJFYT9TZ9F

Molly spread the blueprints across the hood of the van and anchored one corner with a juice box she'd found under the passenger seat. The other corner she held with her thumb, because the wind had formed a clear opinion of the plan and was trying to carry it into the neighboring hedge. Molly chose to interpret this as the wind being unhelpful rather than correct. Bill was studying the hand-drawn map in a way that suggested deep thought without producing any visible evidence of it. "I just want to confirm," he said, "that we are stealing from a child." "We're stealing the presents. The child keeps the party." "I'm not sure that's better, Molly." "It's significantly better. Pay attention." The target was a modest house on Sycamore Lane belonging to the Pemberton family, whose youngest, Madison, was turning six on Saturday. Her parents had assembled a volume of gifts that Molly found both professionally encouraging and slightly embarrassing on their behalf. She had done reconnaissance the previous Thursday disguised as a neighbor with a misdelivered parcel, and counted fourteen wrapped boxes through the front window before the family golden retriever registered a professional objection and refused to stop barking until she retreated to the public sidewalk. "Fourteen packages confirmed. Party starts at two. There's a clown booked for thirty minutes," she said, tapping the blueprint with a pencil. "I won't be in the building while a clown is present." "He works the backyard. We enter through the front, load up, and we're gone before anybody cuts the cake." "That's what I was about to suggest." "No it wasn't." Molly chose not to litigate this further, having already won it convincingly. Bill had what Molly privately called his heist face, indistinguishable from his regular face except that he'd tucked his chin down about half an inch and appeared to be breathing with slightly elevated purpose. He was also wearing his dinosaur tie, which he wore under the settled conviction that children found it reassuring. Molly wore her beige cardigan, which experience had taught her caused adults to trust her approximately forty percent more than she merited. "What if a kid comes inside and sees us?" "We're the birthday helpers. Official present inspection before the ceremony." "Kids aren't that credulous." "They're six." "Madison's six. There could be older siblings." "Only child. I checked the event page thoroughly." "You read the whole event page." "I like to be prepared." He absorbed this in the manner he absorbed most information, which was without any visible reaction whatsoever. The sun sat cheerfully above the rooftops. Somewhere down the block a sprinkler was running and had been for some time. Molly had done heists in worse conditions. Molly rolled up the blueprints and snapped on her driving gloves with more ceremony than was warranted. "Two fifteen, we move. Ten minutes max." Bill took a long, considered sip from the juice box. "I should have become a dentist," he said quietly. "Van. Now." He went.