Run: 2026-03-03-01KJTYKKRN3YKDYBZ0KKFCNE84

The mid-June twilight settled over the quiet cul-de-sac, where the McNallys’ backyard party glowed with pink string lights and echoed with delighted toddler screams. Molly and Bill huddled ten feet back in an overgrown privet hedge, Molly wearing a frayed pink princess sash and a sparkly fake tiara, Bill clutching a roll of duct tape and a lopsided fake birthday hat. “Molls, are you sure this is a good idea?” Bill whispered, voice cracking. “Last time we borrowed a bake sale cookie tin, we got chased by a scruffy terrier.” “Relax. We’re here for the presents, not cookies,” Molly said, twisting a bobby pin in her fingers. “The mom’s too busy mopping icing to notice two volunteer gift movers. I picked the back gate lock five minutes ago—it’s flimsy as a kid’s excuse for forgetting homework.” “You promised cake,” Bill grumbled, patting his empty stomach. “My growl was so loud a kid heard it through the sliding glass.” “After we grab the best presents, we’ll split the cake and piñata candy,” Molly promised, yanking him to his scuffed sneakers. “We’re Lila and Jake, here to deliver gifts to the children’s hospital down the road. No stealing, just donations. Got it?” “Got it,” Bill mumbled, fumbling his tape roll. “Wait, what if we get caught? The cops have our prints from the garden fountain heist last month!” A piñata thudded open inside the backyard, sending a shower of colorful candy spilling across the grass. “Can we grab a sour cherry lollipop first? Please?” Bill begged, nodding toward the patio table stacked with party treats. “Bill, the neighbor left a $250 Lego art set on the back porch ten minutes ago,” Molly hissed, yanking open the creaky garden gate. “That’s all that matters. Stop whining and move.” They crept toward the stack of brightly wrapped boxes piled tight against the porch rail, Bill fumbling two smaller glitter-covered packages in his shaking hands. The gate squeaked loud enough to make them both flinch, and a warm voice called from the kitchen sliding glass door: “Hello? Is someone out there helping with the party?” Molly waved wildly toward the glass, yelling, “Just picking up leftover streamers!” She hauled Bill toward the heaviest wrapped gift first, and they darted back toward the hedge, their arms stuffed tight with stolen presents, Bill fumbling one glittery package until he clutched it tight.