Run: 2026-09-23-01M36NQGBXS1JV7WCM9NSBRG82

Molly spread the floor plan across the bonnet of Bill’s van. A pink balloon tugged at one corner, while a drawing of a smiling dinosaur covered the other. The party was at the community hall, where a banner announced: HAPPY SIXTH BIRTHDAY, OLIVER! “All the presents are stacked beside the cake,” Molly whispered. “We slip in, fill the laundry bags, and leave before anyone notices.” Bill peered at the drawing. “Is that a security camera?” “It’s a picture of a giraffe.” “It has a suspicious neck.” “Bill, we are stealing from six-year-olds. The giraffe is not our primary concern.” Inside the hall, children shrieked around a table crowded with paper hats. Parents chatted near the door. The presents sat in a glittering heap beneath a sign that read PLEASE WAIT UNTIL AFTER THE CAKE. Molly adjusted her party hat. “Remember, we’re cousins from out of town.” “What are our names?” “Claire and Daniel.” “I’d rather be Uncle Bill.” “Uncle Bill sounds like someone who brings sensible socks.” “I do bring sensible socks.” “You’ll have to keep that secret.” They entered carrying a box wrapped in bright yellow paper. Bill had decorated it with a bow so large it seemed to be wearing the box as a hat. A woman at the door smiled. “You must be Oliver’s aunt and uncle.” “Exactly,” said Molly. “We’re the ones with the present.” Bill held up the box. “It’s educational.” “Lovely! Put it with the others.” As they crossed the room, Molly counted the gifts. Bill counted the cupcakes. “Focus,” she murmured. “I am focused. There are twenty-three cupcakes.” “On the presents.” “There are twenty-three presents.” “Good. Now stop counting.” A boy in a silver cape approached them. “Are you the magicians?” Molly blinked. “We’re relatives.” “That’s what magicians say.” Bill crouched to the boy’s level. “Would you like to see a trick?” “No,” Molly said. “Yes,” said the boy. Bill pulled a plastic flower from his sleeve. It squirted water into his own face. The children applauded. Bill bowed, dripping. “Now,” Molly whispered, “while they’re distracted.” She slipped behind the present table and opened a laundry bag. Bill joined her, still holding the flower. “Why are you carrying that?” “It’s part of my act.” “Your act is over.” “Then why are they watching?” Every child had gathered around him. The boy in the cape pointed at the bag. “Are you taking the presents?” The room went quiet. Molly stood up, bag in hand. “We’re moving them to a safer place.” “Where?” asked the boy. “Somewhere without magicians,” Bill said. A parent stepped forward. Molly’s mind raced. “We’re playing a game! Treasure thieves!” The children cheered and surrounded the presents, forming a protective circle. “New plan,” Bill whispered. “We steal the cake.” “We are not stealing the cake.” “It’s a much smaller target.” Oliver, wearing a paper crown, offered them two cupcakes. “You can have these. But the presents stay.” Molly looked at the children guarding the pile, then at Bill, who had frosting on his sleeve and a water-squirting flower in his pocket. “Deal,” she said. Outside, Bill licked his cupcake. “So, we failed.” “We were given cake.” “That’s not failure. That’s catering.” Behind them, the hall erupted in song. Molly glanced through the window at the presents, untouched beneath their cheerful sign. “Next time,” she said, “we rob a grown-up.” Bill nodded. “With a giraffe as lookout?”