Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ061BMD47R9YPGHT7XZ014R

Molly unrolled the crumpled blueprint across the folding table and smoothed it with both hands. It was, in fact, a crayon drawing of a house that she had pulled from her niece's refrigerator. Bill squinted at it. "Molly, is this a blueprint or a coloring page?" "Both. I grabbed it off the fridge. My niece drew it. She's very talented." "The chimney is green." "Focus, Bill." Bill leaned over the drawing and traced a thick orange line with his finger. "Okay, what's this part? The house on fire?" "That's the sun. It's behind the house. See, it says right there." Molly pointed to the word SUN written in wobbly red letters near the orange blob. "So the sun is behind the house but somehow visible through the front door?" "It's a child's interpretation. Don't overthink it." Molly pulled out a laser pointer from her jacket pocket and clicked it at the paper. The red dot danced across the crayon surface. "Now, the party starts at two p.m. on Saturday. We go in through the back gate at two forty-five, right after musical chairs." "How do you know the schedule?" "I RSVP'd. I said my son was coming." "You don't have a son." "I know that and you know that. The host mother, Deborah, does not know that. She put me down for juice boxes and a bag of pretzels." "You committed to bringing refreshments?" "Misdirection, Bill. If you show up with pretzels, nobody questions you." Bill scratched his chin. "So we walk in carrying pretzels." "And a gift bag. Empty. We fill it on the way out." "What about security?" Molly clicked the laser pointer at a spot on the drawing that was clearly a dog. "There's a golden retriever named Captain. Friendly. Loves cheese." "You want to bribe a dog?" "I want to befriend a dog. There's a difference." She reached into her bag and produced a Ziploc bag full of cheddar cubes. "Captain eats these, Captain loves us, Captain lets us fill two bags instead of one." Bill stared at the cheese. "You've put a disturbing amount of thought into this." "The presents this year include a remote-control helicopter, two tablets still in the box, and something called a Mega Bounce Trampoline that retails for three hundred dollars." "Three hundred— why do five-year-olds have better toys than I have furniture?" "Because their parents have jobs, Bill. Now, the exit strategy." Molly flipped the crayon drawing over. On the back was a drawing of a stick figure falling off a cliff. "We go out the way we came in, through the back gate, past Captain, who is now our ally thanks to the cheese, load everything into the van, and disappear." "What if someone sees us?" "You smile. You're holding an empty gift bag. You say, 'What a wonderful party. Little Aiden had such a great time.' Nobody suspects the parent who left early." "Little Aiden doesn't exist, Molly." "He does now. He's homesick. Very sad. That's why we're leaving." She folded the drawing and tucked it into her jacket. "Now eat your breakfast. We've got a lot of work to do, and I need you to practice your fake-parent voice." Bill looked down at the plate of cold eggs. "What's a fake-parent voice?" Molly sighed and rubbed her temples. "It's a voice that sounds tired but grateful. Like you've been to forty birthday parties this year and this one was somehow the best one." Bill cleared his throat and tried. "Thanks so much for having us. Little Aiden loved the cake." Molly considered this for a moment, then nodded. "You're going to steal so many presents, Bill."