Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1G9YW59RD7DM7J8JCMH6QV

Molly crouched behind the hedge, binoculars trained on the bouncy castle wobbling in the suburban backyard. Streamers fluttered. A clown honked something menacing. She adjusted her balaclava, which she'd insisted on wearing despite the eighty-degree heat, sweat pooling dramatically beneath the wool. Bill, beside her, was disguised as a magician, complete with a top hat that kept sliding over his eyes. He clutched a duffel bag labeled, inexplicably, EVIDENCE. The gift table sat twenty feet away, a glorious mountain of glitter-wrapped boxes catching the sun like buried treasure. "That table's the vault," Molly whispered. He nodded gravely, producing a foam sword from his sleeve and immediately stabbing himself in the thigh. The plan was elegant. Bill would distract the children with sleight of hand—he knew exactly two tricks, one involving a coin, the other involving panic. Molly would slip behind the snack station, commandeer the wagon used for hauling juice boxes, and load it with plunder. They'd exit through the side gate, blending seamlessly into the neighborhood as two ordinary adults fleeing a birthday party with a child's wagon full of stolen Legos. Bill swallowed hard, eyeing the piñata swinging overhead like a noose. "For the loot," he murmured. Molly grinned.