Run: 2026-09-02-01M1GRMW3E90YGB81GRCMPECZR

Molly spread the blueprint across the card table: a hand-drawn map of the community center, the bouncy castle circled in red and labeled INFLATABLE DEATH TRAP. Bill leaned in, chewing his toothpick. Nine years of museum jobs, two diamond exchanges, one regrettable incident at a porcelain convention—and now this. A six-year-old's unicorn birthday party. "The ball pit?" "Under it." Molly tapped the diagram, tracing the route: tunnel up behind the cake table, bag the presents, roll out through the fire exit before anyone finished the birthday song. Bill nodded slowly. It was elegant—he'd give her that. She'd planned around nap schedules and sugar-crash windows. The getaway van was disguised as an ice cream truck. She'd even laminated a distraction pony. It had worked, once, at a bar mitzvah. "Security?" "Pin the Tail on the Donkey." Molly's eyes narrowed. "Blindfolded." She flagged the entertainer with her pen; the balloon animals were allegedly trained to bark. Bill loaded water balloons into his tactical vest with the reverence of a man arming for war. The confetti cannon was strictly for emergencies. "The kid?" Molly's jaw tightened. "Nobody cries on my watch." He grinned, shouldering his duffel. Best gig of his life.