Run: 2026-05-31-01KSYXNS114GJQWDQMGFMXNGR7

Molly spread the blueprint across the table, smoothing out the crayon-stained edges. It wasn't a blueprint, exactly. It was a placemat from a pizza restaurant with a maze on it. "This is our intel?" Bill picked it up and squinted. "Molly, this is a cartoon mouse trying to find cheese." "Look past the mouse, Bill. The mouse is irrelevant. Focus on the layout of the house I drew on the back." He flipped it over. "You drew the house on a napkin and taped it to the mouse maze." "I'm resourceful," Molly said, snatching it back. "Now pay attention. The party starts at two. Little Timmy Henderson is turning seven, which means premium loot. We're talking action figures, gift cards, possibly a bicycle." "A bicycle." Bill leaned back, intrigued despite himself. "I've always wanted a bicycle." "You're forty-three." "And I've never owned a bicycle. That's tragic, Molly. That's the real crime here." She ignored him. "The presents will be stacked in the living room. Our window is during the magician's act. Every kid will be staring at the guy pulling rabbits out of a hat." "What's our cover?" Molly grinned and pulled two costumes from a duffel bag. She tossed one to Bill. He held it up, his face falling. "A clown. You want me to be a clown." "Birthday parties love clowns. We walk in, nobody questions a clown. We do a few balloon animals, we case the joint, then we load the gifts into our oversized clown van." "We don't have a clown van." "We have a Honda Civic with a clown sticker I'm going to apply this afternoon." Bill set the costume down with the reverence of a man surrendering. "Molly, I have a question, and I want you to really think about it before you answer." "Shoot." "Are we stealing presents from a seven-year-old?" There was a pause. Molly chewed her lip. "When you say it like that, it sounds bad." "There's no good way to say it. It's children's presents. We're going to ruin a child's birthday." "Okay, but consider this." Molly held up a finger. "The presents are insured under his parents' homeowner policy. Probably. So really we're stealing from an insurance company, and everybody hates insurance companies." "That's not how insurance works." "Do you know how insurance works?" Bill opened his mouth, then closed it. "No. But I feel like that's not how it works." "Exactly. Uncertainty. The thief's greatest ally." She began stuffing a red foam nose into her pocket. "Look, we hit the party, we grab the loot, and within the hour you're riding a brand-new bicycle into the sunset. Tell me that doesn't sound beautiful." Bill considered it. He pictured the wind in his hair, the spokes spinning, a freedom he'd never known. "Fine," he said quietly. "But I'm keeping the bicycle." "Obviously. I don't want a child's bicycle. I have standards." "You're robbing his birthday." "Standards within reason, Bill." She tossed him the wig. "Now put on the nose. We've got a magician to outsmart."