Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ00XXXXX64RD8A80X6G58AZ

Molly unrolled the blueprint across the kitchen table, smoothing out the juice stains with her forearm. The crayon-drawn floor plan showed the Henderson residence in meticulous detail. "The party's at three," she said. "That's our window." Bill studied the diagram, tracing the perimeter with his finger. Security consisted of two mothers distributing juice boxes and a teenage babysitter too absorbed in her phone to notice anything suspicious. The target—presents piled beneath a cardboard castle—included trucks, dolls, and one suspiciously expensive remote control helicopter. Molly marked their entry point with a red crayon. They'd slip through the back gate during the chaotic drop-off, blend among the parents, and wait for cake time. "The clown worries me," Bill admitted. "Clowns are irrelevant." She didn't look up. At 3:15, Sugar the clown would arrive with a bubble machine, creating the perfect distraction. They'd grab the presents and vanish before anyone finished singing. Their getaway minivan waited two blocks away, the route carefully planned around the ice cream truck that haunted Maple Street every Saturday. "Ready?" Molly asked. "Let's steal some toys." Bill bumped her fist, his knuckles brushing something sticky—sprinkles, he hoped.