Run: 2026-09-23-01M37HV1REEAZZG2X437NH7A39

Molly parked the van across from the house and raised a pair of binoculars. Through the front window, she counted twelve children, three adults, and a mountain of presents beneath a banner that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, POPPY! “We have twenty minutes before the magician arrives,” she said. “Once he starts making rabbits appear, nobody notices two extra people in the kitchen.” Bill adjusted the bow tie Molly had made him wear. It was yellow, dotted with tiny ducks, and capable of ending his career if anyone took a photograph. “Why am I wearing this? I look like a waiter at a wedding for ducks. And what are you supposed to be?” “The magician’s assistant. I bought a cape.” Molly unfolded a length of purple velvet. “You’re going to announce me, and I’m going to announce a surprise.” Rain began to stipple the windshield. A little girl in a pirate hat appeared at the party window and pressed her face against the glass. “What surprise?” Bill asked. “Please say balloon animals. I’ve been practicing dogs, and two of them still have all their legs.” “An escape act. You’ll ask for volunteers to inspect the van. While they’re outside, I’ll carry the presents into the laundry room.” Bill watched the little pirate point at them. Another child joined her at the window. Both waved enthusiastically. He waved back before remembering he was meant to be inconspicuous. “Then what?” he said. “The laundry room is still in the house. You’ve just given the washing machine a very good birthday.” “Then you move the van around back and load up. Honestly, Bill, sometimes I think your bow tie is doing all the thinking.” The front door opened. Six children spilled onto the porch, followed by a woman carrying a tray of cupcakes. She looked straight at the van and smiled. “She’s coming over,” Bill said. “Do we run? I can drive with a cupcake in my hand if she offers me one.” “Smile. Entertainment professionals smile. Even the ones with complicated escape acts and a van full of empty sacks.” The woman tapped on Molly’s window. Up close, she had the exhausted brightness of someone who had spent the morning explaining that pirates did, in fact, need shoes. “Are you here for Poppy’s party?” she asked. Molly lowered the window an inch. “We certainly are. My assistant and I were just discussing where to set up our big surprise.” “Brilliant.” The woman offered the tray. “The magician cancelled, so the children have been inventing their own show. They could use some help.” Bill accepted a cupcake. Across the street, the children had already begun carrying presents out of the house. Each marched toward the van with the grave purpose of a tiny removal firm. “What are they doing?” Molly asked, as a box landed by her rear wheel. “Please tell me those aren’t all for the magician.” “Those are their donations for the children’s hospital,” the woman said. “Poppy asked for no presents. We’re loading them into your van, aren’t we?” Molly looked at Bill. Bill looked at the growing stack of gifts. The little pirate saluted them both. “Absolutely,” Bill said. “We’ve always wanted to steal all the presents. I mean—take them where they’re going. After the show.” Molly pulled the cape over her head. “For our first trick,” she told the woman, “we’re going to make a terrible idea disappear.”