Run: 2026-03-06-01KK1J5NH8SJV23NNF5RNX9V11

Molly crouched behind the privet hedge, black turtleneck collecting confetti blown from Number Twelve’s front garden. Beyond the gate, balloons bobbed like cheerful sentries, and the shriek of six-year-olds rose and fell with the alarming rhythm of a police siren. Bill, beside her, unfolded a crayon-sketched map he’d lifted from the birthday girl’s little brother and studied it with the solemnity of an admiral invading a nation made of frosting. “Front door’s chaos,” Molly whispered. “We go through the bouncy castle.” Bill adjusted his wool cap and peered over the hedge. “Bold. Undignified. I like it.” A clown on stilts tottered past the window carrying a tray of blue jelly. In the back garden, a pirate magician was losing an argument with a rabbit. Near the hall table, glitter-wrapped presents sat in a glorious mound, practically humming to Molly like a choir of unattended banknotes. She checked her watch. Three minutes until cake, the sacred lull when every child in Britain became temporarily stationary and sugared into reverence. Bill produced two party hats from his coat as if revealing forged passports. Molly took the hat with a grim nod. The elastic snapped under her chin with criminal authority. Then they slipped from the hedge, smiling like exhausted cousins, and advanced on the gate through a minefield of bubbles.