Run: 2026-09-23-01M37HZVM5QXQM2K41N418TNMS

Molly spread a crayon drawing across the café table. It showed a house, a yard, and a figure in a paper crown standing beside a mountain of squares. “That’s the target,” she said. Bill leaned closer. “Which one?” “The presents.” “Good. For a moment I thought we were kidnapping the king.” Molly tapped the crowned figure. “That’s Oliver. He turns six on Saturday. My niece says there’ll be twenty-three guests, a magician, and a chocolate fountain.” Bill looked up. “Your niece is going?” “She drew the map.” “Does she know what it’s for?” “She thinks we’re planning a surprise.” Bill rubbed his forehead. “We are planning a surprise. It’s just a dreadful one.” Molly turned the paper over. On the back, a sun with sunglasses beamed above the words GOOD LUCK, AUNT MOLLY. She folded that side out of sight. They had met to plan an extravagant robbery. So far, their equipment consisted of two coffees and a drawing obtained from a five-year-old. Bill had brought a large sack, but it was currently full of library books he’d forgotten to return. “The party starts at two,” Molly said. “We enter at three, when everyone’s distracted by the magician.” “What’s our disguise?” “Party entertainers.” “You can juggle?” “No.” “Make balloon animals?” “I can make a balloon long.” Bill considered this. “I know a card trick.” “You showed me. I picked a card and you lost it.” “The trick’s better with a larger audience.” Molly studied the drawing again. Her niece had put wheels on the house and labelled the chocolate fountain HOT VOLCANO. The presents were marked with thirty-seven stars, though Molly had been assured there were only twenty-three guests. A waiter arrived with the bill. Bill quickly placed a salt shaker over it. “We could go as parents,” he said when the waiter left. “Whose parents?” “We’ll decide when we get there.” Molly began to object, then stopped. It was the most plausible part of their plan so far. Parents could come and go. They could carry things. Parents were expected to look tired and mildly confused, both of which Bill managed without preparation. “We’ll need a child,” she said. Bill pointed at the drawing. “Your niece.” “She’d recognize us.” “Yes. That’s why I suggested her.” Molly stared at him. Outside, a woman walked past the window holding a parcel almost as big as the child beside her. The child carried a small cardboard crown and waved at a bus. “Why do we want all the presents?” Molly asked. “Because you said there’d be loads.” “I meant why would we take them?” Bill shifted in his chair. “I thought you had a buyer.” “I thought you did.” They listened to a spoon rattle in the café kitchen. Molly flattened the drawing with both hands. Her niece had made the front door purple, and beside it she’d drawn two smiling figures: one with Molly’s red hair, the other with Bill’s enormous ears. “We’re invited,” Molly said. Bill peered at the figures. “Excellent. That solves entry.” Molly pulled the salt shaker away from the bill. “We’re bringing presents.” “Fine,” Bill said. “But I’m not getting Oliver a library book.”