Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0G7VTS9GD6F0Q8R0EWGAM4

Molly spread the blueprints across the sticky diner table, anchoring the corners with ketchup bottles and a half-eaten stack of pancakes. The Henderson residence glowed on the page in surgical blue ink, every doorway and air vent catalogued with the obsessive precision of a woman who had spent three weeks pretending to be a birthday clown's assistant. Bill slurped his coffee and squinted at the floor plan, his enormous mustache quivering with the weight of his concentration. Seven-year-old Timmy Henderson was turning eight on Saturday, and by all reliable intelligence, his grandmother, a retired oil heiress with more money than judgment, had purchased him approximately forty-seven wrapped gifts, including what the neighborhood gossip insisted was a solid gold rocking horse. "Bouncy castle's the distraction," Molly said. Bill nodded, tracing a finger along the backyard perimeter toward the gift table, which sat beneath a piñata shaped like a disturbingly cheerful llama. Their plan required two clown costumes, a stolen magician's van, and a willingness to sprint from children, which Bill possessed in abundance. Molly tapped the piñata with her pen, smiling the small dangerous smile of a woman about to ruin a child's entire Saturday afternoon.