Run: 2026-02-25-01KJBEN71P4J2GYWZ5V9JATMSX

Molly adjusted binoculars, peering through wet fabric of oversized raincoat. Bill nervously checked time on wrist, digital clock glowing sickly green in shadows of abandoned dumpster. They were supposed to be professionals, duo forged in fires of high-stakes vault heists, but here staring at suburban house decorated with plastic bunnies. Target simple. Birthday boy eight meant treasure behind wrapping paper likely filled with Lego sets and plastic blasters. Bill shifted weight, sneakers squeaking on damp pavement. House lights flickered, casting long shadows across lawn where neighbors parked sedans. Parents inside, distracted by cake cutting and inevitable screaming of toddlers. Front door unlocked, habit Molly noted from stakeout earlier afternoon. She lowered binoculars, nodded at Bill, face grim beneath hood. They slipped through gate like ghosts. They moved through hallway, footsteps muffled by thick carpet. Bill’s hand hovered over stack of gifts, trembling slightly. Molly grabbed shoulder, pointed toward wrapping table. Quickly, she said, "Grab fast. If mom yells, drop the box." They needed to vanish before first cry rang out from dining room. They grabbed pile. Bill said, "Run! Go fast. If they hear us, we die." Molly screamed, "Now! Run! Now!"