Run: 2026-09-23-01M36VZ9ZQ9DAD06BA15JS8KVV

Molly crouched behind the hedge with a clipboard, as if shrubbery required management. Bill adjusted a paper crown from the recycling and squinted toward the gift table like a man solving weather. Balloons knocked together. A plastic castle leaned. Wrapped boxes sat in a bright, unguarded heap while a toddler argued with a piñata. The afternoon smelled like sugar and regret. Their plan was less a plan than a shared delusion. Molly wanted the cake song, that brief minute when every adult faced one direction and forgot the concept of watching things. Bill had contributed a laundry basket and a theory that confidence could replace competence. A clown honked past. Bill met the mulch. Molly did not blink. She had already noticed the mother orbiting the presents, and the dog, who had picked a side. Nobody watched them yet. Nearly time. "Wait for the candles," she said. "Then the basket," he said. "We grab the boxes and run." "Past the dog?" "Especially past the dog." The cake tilted into view. Small voices lifted. Molly counted ribbons. Bill gripped plastic handles and tried to become smaller than his own bad idea. A balloon escaped overhead. Behind them the bouncy castle breathed, patient as a verdict.