Run: 2026-09-02-01M1GQ93GREHGH94R9B1VSMW4Y

Molly lay flat in the hydrangeas, binoculars raised. Across the cul-de-sac, the Henderson backyard bristled with balloons, a banner reading HAPPY 6TH BIRTHDAY TYLER, and a bouncy castle the size of a chapel. She'd cased the party for a week, posing as a room mother. "Confirm the objective," she whispered. Bill consulted a crayon drawing they'd lifted from the mailbox. "Piñata at two o'clock. Present table by the fence. Fifty-plus gifts, maybe sixty." "Fifty-plus." Molly let out a low whistle. "The kid's parents overcompensate. I love overcompensation. Stay frosty." "There's a clown," Bill said grimly. "Clowns are muscle. They can stuff forty balloons into a VW with their bare hands." "The clown leaves at two-fifteen for another gig. That's our window." Bill rubbed his temples. "And the security camera?" "It's a plastic duck with googly eyes, Bill." "That's exactly what they want you to think." Molly clapped a dinosaur costume against his chest. "Suit up. You're a party guest now." Bill stared at the tiny arms. "This T-rex can't even hold a sack." "Then carry it in your mouth, like a professional." Somewhere beyond the hedge, children began to chant. Bill exhaled, adjusted his tail, and bounced toward destiny.