Run: 2026-09-02-01M1GT9KEH4166AE6P0GGBSMPV

Molly spread the blueprints across the diner table: a crayon drawing of a suburban backyard, courtesy of her six-year-old informant, paid in gummy bears. Bill leaned over it, chewing his toothpick with the gravity of a general. "The Henderson kid's birthday. Saturday. Bounce house, balloon arch, and a clown named Bubbles." Bill paled beneath his stubble. "Bubbles? He worked the Maroney wedding. Juggles, honks his horn. Twice." "You cased a clown?" "I case everything. It's who I am." She tapped the drawing. "The gift table sits right beside the fence. We go over during musical chairs, grab everything, and vanish before cake." "Musical chairs?" Molly fixed him with a look. "Nothing pulls a five-year-old's attention like a brawl over a folding chair." Bill nodded slowly, impressed by her ruthlessness. "And the piñata?" "That stays. Even I have limits, and those paper eyes haunt me." He smiled and emptied his duffel onto the table: lockpicks, glow sticks, one juice box. "So we're agreed. Half is mine." "Half? I'm doing the climbing." Bill shrugged, unrepentant. "And I'm the clown distruster. Dangerous work, Molly." She rolled her eyes and pocketed the crayon map. Outside, a school bus full of innocent children rumbled past. They were professionals. This was fine.