Run: 2026-03-18-01KM09A4PY8D85T8AJJMZVRC1Z

Molly crouched beside the bakery dumpster, studying the glittering invitation she had fished from a pocket of discarded confetti. Across the alley, Bill was trying to look dangerous while wrestling a borrowed clown shoe onto his left foot. The shoe squeaked with every movement, like it was laughing at him personally. “Birthday party, second floor, blue balloons,” Molly whispered. “Easy.” “Nothing is easy,” Bill whispered back, adjusting his stolen bow tie. “Especially not children. They move like swarms.” She smirked and unfolded the floor plan she had drawn on the back of a placemat. The building was a community hall, all creaky stairs, paper lanterns, and one overworked volunteer at the door. Inside, there would be presents stacked under a cardboard castle, waiting to be admired, opened, and, if the universe was kind, removed. Bill peered at the plan. “You sure this is moral?” Molly tapped the page. “We are thieves, Bill. We sell morality by the ounce.” He nodded, though his expression suggested he’d rather buy it in bulk. Somewhere inside, a child shrieked with delight, followed by the rustle of wrapping paper. Molly inhaled, grinned, and tucked a flashlight into her sleeve. “Remember,” she said, “we leave with gifts, not guilt.” Bill straightened his bow tie and grinned back. “Then let’s make a very merry exit.”