Run: 2026-03-18-01KM07THCVRMS37RGZSQ7AZ8H1

Moonlight slid over the porch as Molly crouched beside a box of frosting-scented tools. Bill, wearing a paper birthday hat, checked the porch window like it owed him money. “Shh.” Molly hissed, pressing her ear to the door. Inside, kids shrieked and the party playlist thumped, cheerful as a mugger. Bill pointed at the wall cam. “Cameras see balloons, not crooks.” Molly nodded, lifting a roll of decorative streamers. “Then we carry balloons.” The plan: slip past the squeaky sensor, waltz through the living room, and vacuum every present before the candles. A squeaker toy burbled somewhere near the tree. Bill grinned and adjusted the duffel. “Steal presents, leave frosting.” “Three steps. Go.” Molly whispered. They moved—one, two—soft shoes, soft breaths, hard intentions. Bill paused at a stack of wrapped boxes, then muttered, “And run silently.” The door unlatched with a tiny sigh, as if even it wanted extra gifts. Giggling from the hallway echoed while Molly slid inside, scanning for the prize table. Bill followed, brushing aside a giant foam dinosaur. Their gloved hands grabbed gift bags, ribboned boxes, and one suspicious book titled Dragons of Etiquette. Somewhere, a clownified uncle laughed, unaware the party was being professionally robbed.