Run: 2026-09-23-01M37HE845ZFC1F9WM2V6YJHE2

Molly spread the floor plan, pinning one corner beneath a sugar bowl and the other beneath Bill’s elbow. The plan was drawn in crayon, which suited the job: a children’s birthday party at the community hall, twelve guests, one exhausted magician, and a mountain of presents. “The magician’s our perfect distraction,” Molly said. “I’ll handle all the presents.” Bill studied the drawing. “What if the magician notices?” “He won’t. You’re the rabbit.” Bill looked down at the bright white ears Molly had bought him. They were attached to a headband with stars. He had once escaped a bank vault through an air vent. Now his reputation depended on hopping convincingly. At three o’clock, they entered the hall through a side door. Bill bounded toward the magician’s hat and pulled out a real rabbit. While the children cheered, Molly wheeled a trolley toward the gift table. She stopped beside a card that read, FOR CHILDREN’S HOSPITAL WARD. Bill saw it too. For a moment, neither moved. Then Molly loaded the trolley anyway: every present, every ribbon, every wobbling bow. Outside, she turned left toward the hospital instead of right toward their van. Bill followed, carrying the rabbit, which bit him twice.