Run: 2026-07-07-01KWZ4HM0J6VGWC6H0X5FWHVTD

The soundtrack of a dozen shrieking six-year-olds spilled from the house, a sonic assault that made Molly’s temples throb. Bill, however, swayed gently, a sappy smile plastered across his face. "Pin the Tail. A classic." Molly ignored him, her focus on the mountain of brightly wrapped gifts clustered under a sagging banner that read "Happy 7th Birthday, Timmy!" The logistics were perfect. A quick distraction, a swap of the gift pile with a bag of bricks, and they'd be rich in secondhand Play-Doh and bargain-bin action figures. "We're stealing from a child." His voice held a tremor of genuine outrage that was, for a man who once tried to fence a stolen prosthetic leg, a new and unwelcome development. Molly's jaw tightened. She'd budgeted for laser grids and guard dogs, not for a conscience. "We're stealing for the childless." It was the best she could do. She unrolled the schematics, pointing a gloved finger at the patio door. "But what about Timmy's face?" The question hung in the air, sticky and sweet as the melting cake inside. Molly slapped the blueprint with the back of her hand. "Focus."