Run: 2026-03-18-01KM08KKXANTEMY8XYNM6QRXJB

Molly crouched behind the bakery van, peering at the bungalow strung with paper lanterns and balloons. “You’re sure this is the right house?” Bill adjusted his black gloves. “The right house, the wrong morals. Yes.” “Excellent,” Molly said. “I brought lock picks, a flashlight, and a moral compass I can ignore.” From inside came the shriek of children, then a burst of tinny party music. Bill winced. “That sound alone should count as a security system.” “Makes the job easier,” Molly whispered. “They’ll be too busy frosting each other to notice us.” Bill lifted a brow. “That is a sentence no professional should ever say.” A clown-shaped sign read Happy Birthday, Tilly! “The presents are in the conservatory,” Molly said. “According to my contact.” “You have contacts now?” “I have standards. And a cousin who dates a balloon artist.” Bill leaned closer to the window. A mountain of wrapped gifts glowed beneath streamers. “That’s a lot of loot for one small criminal operation.” “Think of the resale value,” Molly said. “Think of the ribbons.” “Why the ribbons?” “Because,” she said, grinning, “we’re not monsters.” Bill sighed. “Fine. We go in quiet, grab the presents, and leave before anyone cries.” A child shouted, “Mum, the magician made the hamster disappear!” Molly stood. “Too late.”