Run: 2026-09-23-01M37J1JA8NYVCW3P8C89ZT5E1

Molly spread a crayon map across the café table and pinned its corners with four stolen sugar packets. At its center, a purple square marked the children’s party. Around it she had drawn balloons, exits, and one enormous question mark wearing a security guard’s hat. “The presents are in the dining room,” she said. “We go in disguised as entertainers, gather the lot, and leave before anyone notices.” Bill studied the map. “What sort of entertainers? I can juggle two oranges, provided neither one expects me to catch it.” Molly slid him a photograph of the birthday boy’s house. A banner over the gate read FINN IS SIX. Beneath it, six children posed with foam swords. The smallest was tackling a man in a dragon costume while the others cheered. Bill turned the photograph over, as though the reverse might show a safer house. “Magic,” Molly said. “We make the presents disappear. Children love that. There’s even a magician booked, so we’ll fit right in.” Bill blinked. “If there’s already a magician, won’t we look suspicious? Two magicians at one party seems like a staffing error.” The waiter arrived with their tea, glanced at the map, and quietly replaced the sugar packets. Molly waited until he left before drawing a route from the dining room to the garden gate. It crossed the kitchen, skirted a paddling pool, and ended at a wheelbarrow. “That’s our getaway vehicle,” she said. “The wheelbarrow belongs to the gardener. We load it with gifts and roll it through the gate.” “Does the gardener know?” “No.” “Does the wheelbarrow have a motor?” “No.” Bill took a long drink of tea. “Then I’d like my fee in advance. Running with a wheelbarrow sounds humiliating.” Molly tapped a red circle on the map. That, she explained, was Finn’s grandmother. She had hosted the same party for three generations of the family and could spot an uninvited guest from across a crowded lawn. Last year she had ejected a neighbor’s dog for wearing the wrong collar. “We don’t go near her,” Molly said. “When the real magician starts his show, she’ll be watching from the front row.” Bill examined the photograph again. “She’s the one holding the dragon by the tail, isn’t she? We should go home.” A gust from the café door lifted the map. Molly caught it before it reached the floor, but not before Bill saw the note she had written along the bottom: BRING GIFTS. He put down his cup. On the table beside her sat two brightly wrapped boxes. “Those are for our disguises,” Molly said. “Nobody questions a guest carrying a present. Once we’re inside, we add them to the pile.” “And steal them back in the wheelbarrow?” “Along with everything else.” Bill picked up his box and shook it. Something inside rattled faintly. “What did you get Finn?” Molly hesitated. “A magic kit.” Bill looked toward the door. “If he spots us, perhaps he’ll make us disappear.”