Run: 2026-07-07-01KWZ4NZMPXD55Z8JA9SBJX4HD

Molly adjusted her black ski mask and peered through the binoculars at the suburban backyard. Bright balloons bobbed in the afternoon breeze. A bounce house inflated like a colorful tumor on the lawn. Children screamed with joy as they chased each other around a piñata shaped like a unicorn. "This is low," she muttered. "What was that?" Bill asked, crouching beside her behind the hedges. "I said this is our window. Right now." Bill scratched his chin through his own mask. "You know, when you said we were going to hit a high-value target, I imagined a bank, maybe a museum. Not little Madison's eighth birthday party." "Think bigger, Bill. There are forty kids at that party. Forty kids means forty presents. And look at those gift bags. That's not dollar-store crap. I saw a Lego Death Star sitting on that table." "Which table?" "The one next to the ice sculpture." "There's an ice sculpture at a children's birthday party?" "Welcome to Maplewood Heights. These parents spend more on birthday parties than we spent on our last three heists combined." Bill sighed. "Fine. So what's the plan?" Molly pointed toward the backyard. "We go in as the caterers. I lifted uniforms from the catering van when the driver was on his phone." "Caterers don't wear ski masks." "We take those off, genius. We walk in, load the presents into the catering van like we're moving them to a gift display area, and walk out." "And what about the kids?" "What about them?" "You can't just steal presents from children, Molly. There's a special place in hell for people who steal from kids." "There's a special place in hell for people who get caught, too. I'd rather go to the first one." Bill groaned. "How are we supposed to carry all those presents without anyone noticing?" Molly pulled out a large plastic bin from behind the bushes. "We bring this. I labeled it 'Party Supplies.' No one questions a plastic bin." "That's... actually pretty smart." "I know." "What if a kid sees us taking their present?" "Then you smile and say you're bringing it to the gift table." "What if they ask why we're putting it in a bin?" "Then you say it's a surprise game where all the presents go in a bin and the birthday kid has to guess which one is from whom." "That doesn't make any sense." "Neither does paying an ice sculptor to make a Frozen Elsa for a party that lasts three hours, but here we are." Bill stared at the yard. A small girl with pigtails was opening a massive box wrapped in sparkly paper. She let out a shriek of delight as she pulled out what appeared to be a brand-new iPad. "That's a six hundred dollar present," Molly whispered. "We're doing this, aren't we?" Molly handed him the catering uniform. "We're doing this. Put on the shirt." "I feel terrible." "You'll feel better when we fence the Lego set." She paused. "Also, if anyone asks, your name is Gary and you're from the party planning company." "What's your name?" "Caterer." "That's not a name." "It is when you're stealing from children, Bill."