Run: 2026-03-18-01KM082JK6NJCB6N3X8JVZ2EZW

Molly crouched behind the bakery dumpster, studying the glittering house across the street where a birthday banner trembled in the wind. Inside, laughter burst like confetti. Bill adjusted his borrowed bow tie and sighed. "Do you think the clown suspects anything?" "Bill, the clown suspects everyone. It's his face." "Excellent. So we're blending in." "With what? Your trench coat and a fruit basket?" He frowned at the basket. "It is a very convincing fruit basket." Molly peered at the gift table through the window. Towers of wrapped boxes gleamed under the balloons. "Easy score. We enter as tasteful party guests, distract the adults, and vanish with the presents." "And the cake?" "No." "Harsh." A shriek of happy children floated out, followed by a chorus of off-key singing. Bill swallowed. "I told you this felt wrong." "It’s only wrong if you get sentimental." He straightened his bow tie. "I am not sentimental. I’m practical." "Then practice being quiet." "Ah. My specialty." Molly smirked, tugged on her gloves, and led the way toward the cheerful front door, where the doormat read, Come on in! Any thief worth her salt could not resist an invitation like that. "Ready to get hilariously illegal, then, Molly?"