Run: 2026-04-25-01KQ2H1FDCSH0WSAB15HKN61KS

The inflatable bouncy castle loomed like a plump, grinning fortress. Molly flattened herself against the hedge, binoculars trained on the front door. A glittering banner screamed “Happy 6th Birthday, Chloe!” in shimmering unicorn font. Beside her, Bill adjusted his fake mustache, which was already peeling at the edge. “They’re doing the piñata now,” she whispered. “Thirty seconds until the sugar crash opens the prize table.” Bill tugged at his rainbow-striped party hat, a prop purchased at considerable personal cost. “Remind me again,” he grumbled, “why we aren’t hitting a bank?” “Because banks have alarms, Bill. Kids have nap time.” Through the window, she watched a small girl in a tiara stumble away from the wrecked unicorn-piñata, clutching a bag of candy. Perfect. The parents were pouring juice, their attention scattered like the spilled sprinkles on the lawn. Molly slid a walkie-talkie from her cargo pocket. “Phase two. You go clowns, I go stolen.” Bill groaned. “I hate clowns.” “You hate not getting paid more.” He sighed, then plastered on a rictus grin and strode toward the party with a bag of balloon animals. Molly counted to ten and slipped around the side, toward the glittering mountain of presents. Five minutes, tops. She’d already found the perfect hiding spot behind the cake table. The only thing slower than a sugared-up six-year-old was a full bladder. And she had three juice boxes tucked in her belt.