Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCPRMAZY5WM07C3B96BH8ZD

Molly spread the crayon drawing across the hood of the van. "Blueprints." "That's a horse," Bill said. "That's the bouncy castle. Tommy Kilbride drew it from memory. Kid's got a gift." "Kid's got a felony charge waiting, working with us." Bill squinted at the paper. "What's the brown blob?" "Piñata. Filled with candy, and candy means sugar, and sugar means eleven children moving at speeds no adult can track. That's our window." "Our window is a piñata." "Our window is chaos, Bill. The piñata merely provides it." He rubbed his face. "Explain to me again why we're robbing a seven-year-old." "We're not robbing a seven-year-old. We're robbing a seven-year-old's *guests*, who are, statistically, the wealthiest people at the party." "They're seven." "Their parents wrap the gifts." Molly tapped the drawing. "Last year at the Hendersons', a boy received a tablet, a drone, and a savings bond. A savings bond, Bill." "What do we do with a savings bond?" "We hold it for eighteen years and let it mature." Bill stared at her. "That's not a heist. That's a retirement plan." "Every heist is a retirement plan." She folded the horse into her jacket. "Now. You brought the clown suit?" "I brought two." "Bill." She smiled. "Yes."