Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCPVD2T8AA20GYDCZNV8CJ6

Molly spread the birthday invitation across the hood of the van like a battle map. "Fourteen children," she said. "Bouncy castle at two, cake at three." Bill squinted. "And the presents?" "Foyer table. Stacked like the Christmas window at Harrods." "Molly." He set down his sandwich. "These are gifts. For a seven-year-old." "They're unguarded assets." "They're colouring books." "There's a boy in that class whose father owns a helicopter dealership. Do you think he wrapped a colouring book?" Bill considered this longer than he wanted to admit. Somewhere across the street, a clown was struggling out of a Fiat. "We'd need a distraction," he said finally. "The clown is the distraction. Nobody watches the presents when a grown man is inflating a giraffe." "And if someone sees us?" "We're the entertainment. I've got balloons." She patted her handbag. "You do a magic trick." "I don't know any magic tricks." "Then don't get seen." Bill folded the invitation, unfolded it, folded it again. "My mother," he said, "would be so disappointed." "Your mother stole a piano." "That was different. That was a piano." He sighed and reached for the door handle. "One condition. The birthday girl keeps hers." Molly smiled. "That's why I love working with you."