Run: 2026-09-23-01M37HSK2HGYD1ZEQ45VJ454NB

Molly unfolded a crayon-smeared invitation on the café table. Across the top, a smiling dinosaur announced: FINN TURNS FIVE! “Security?” Bill asked. “Two parents at the front door, one grandmother by the cake, and a golden retriever named Waffles.” “Waffles sounds formidable.” “Waffles eats napkins.” “Then we’ll need decoy napkins.” Molly tapped the invitation. “The presents go on a table in the living room. We enter with the entertainers, collect the gifts, and leave before the magician starts pulling scarves out of places scarves shouldn’t be.” “What entertainers?” “Us.” Bill stared at her. “You promised we were done with costumes after the aquarium.” “The aquarium was different.” “I still smell faintly of squid.” “You’ll be dressed as a balloon artist.” “I can’t make balloon animals.” “You can make balloon worms.” “Everyone can make balloon worms.” “Exactly. No one suspects the ordinary.” Bill leaned closer. “And what are you?” “The magician’s assistant.” “Does the magician know he has an assistant?” “He will when I tell him he won one in a raffle.” “That’s not a sentence that has ever reassured me.” Molly slid a sketch across the table. It showed the house, a driveway, and a stick figure carrying a tower of boxes. “Is that me?” “Yes.” “Why am I drawn with such enormous ears?” “For identification.” “My ears are normal.” “Then you’ll be pleasantly surprised when you look in a mirror.” A waiter arrived with two coffees. Bill waited until he’d gone. “How do we carry every present out without anyone noticing?” “We use the giant gift bag.” “How giant?” “Laundry-cart giant.” “That is not a gift bag. That is a mobile confession.” “It has a bow.” Bill studied the sketch. “What if Finn notices?” “Finn will be occupied with the treasure hunt.” “We’re stealing from a child while distracting him with imaginary treasure?” “It’s a party game. The treasure is chocolate coins.” “Those are real treasure to a five-year-old.” Molly paused. Beyond the window, a father struggled to fold a stroller while his daughter offered patient, useless advice. “Fine,” she said. “We don’t take Finn’s presents.” Bill blinked. “That was the entire plan.” “We take the other presents.” “What other presents?” Molly turned the invitation over. In tiny print beneath the address, someone had written: Please bring a wrapped donation for the children’s hospital. Bill’s face changed. “Molly.” “I know.” “We are absolutely not stealing hospital donations.” “I said I know.” “Then why did you invite me here?” “Because the donations keep disappearing before they reach the hospital. Four parties this month. Same magician each time.” Bill looked at the stick figure again. “So we’re stealing the stolen presents?” “We’re following whoever takes them.” “And the bag?” “For evidence.” “And the balloon worms?” “For camouflage.” Bill picked up his coffee. “Couldn’t we just tell the parents?” “I did. They hired us.” “They hired thieves?” “They hired the only people who noticed.” Bill sighed. “I’ll need proper balloons.” “Already bought them.” “And decoy napkins.” “Three hundred.” “Why three hundred?” Molly smiled. “Waffles has an accomplice.” Outside, the stroller snapped shut with a bang. Bill jumped, then examined Molly’s sketch again. “The dog?” “The grandmother. Waffles just eats the evidence.” “You could have led with that.” “I wanted you to commit to the worms.”