Run: 2026-03-03-01KJV00J01S9V3M7JENGRYP7S2

The crisp October air clung to Molly and Bill as they hunkered behind an overflowing trash can at the edge of the Henderson’s backyard party. Cotton candy fumes tangled with sunscreen and burnt hot dog grease, while the high, reedy laugh of toddlers chasing a piñata drifted over the picket fence. Bill’s boot thudded against a loose brick, and he twisted a crumpled latex glove between his fingers. “Molls, this is totally messed up,” Bill whispered, ducking lower when a parent glanced over the fence. “We’re stealing from toddlers? What if they tell their dads we’re bad guys?” Molly snapped a crumpled backyard floor plan flat against the trash can, yanking her too-big black hoodie hood over her head. “Quit whining. We’re grabbing the stack of wrapped presents by the picnic table—rich suburban parents won’t miss a $70 unicorn doll or a set of wooden blocks. You owe me $12 from the taco truck heist you bailed on last month; this pays both of us.” “Wait, the clown’s still inside twisting balloon dogs!” Bill yelped, pressing his face to the fence slats. “You said he’d be out smoking!” “Relax, that’s his roommate manning the booth,” Molly shot back, sliding a thin metal lock-pick from her canvas bag. “We’ve got four minutes before the cake is cut. Move before I ditch you here and take all the score for myself.” Bill hesitated, then scrambled to his feet, stumbling after Molly as she slipped through a gap in the picket fence.