Run: 2026-03-18-01KM07ENXM1BQ8TSR59P9DSR85

Molly flattened herself against the bakery wall, eyeing the community hall across the street. Balloons bobbed in the dusk like cheerful sentries, and from inside came the squeals of children, the thump of a bassy clown speaker, and the faint, tragic smell of frosting. Bill adjusted his tie, which was not a disguise so much as a surrender. “It’s a birthday party,” he whispered. “How hard can it be?” Molly smiled without warmth. “Harder than robbing a bank. Banks don’t have sugar-fueled inspectors in glitter crowns.” A paper banner fluttered over the door: HAPY BIRTHDAY, LEAH! Someone had missed a letter and no one seemed to care. Bill peeked through the glass. “There are presents everywhere.” “Exactly,” Molly said. “Left unattended. Poorly supervised. Wrapped in optimism.” He licked his lips. “I do love optimism.” Inside, the magician was producing rabbits from a hat while the parents applauded with the strained enthusiasm of hostages. The gift pile sat beneath the long table, a mountain of bright paper and ribbon. Molly tugged on her gloves. “We go in as entertainers.” Bill frowned. “What are we?” “Uncle Chuckles and Auntie Surprise.” “I hate that.” “You should have thought of that before agreeing to crime.” They crossed the street, smiling like villains on coupons. Molly opened the door, and warmth, laughter, and the scent of cake swallowed them whole.