Run: 2026-09-23-01M37P43AHSBNMFVH57WN82B8C

Molly unrolled the blueprint across the hood of the van and pinned the corners down with two juice boxes. The blueprint had been drawn in crayon. "Where did you get this?" Bill asked. "The birthday girl's mum posted the invitation online. There was a map on the back. Very helpful woman. Terrible for operational security." Bill squinted at a purple blob. "What's that?" "That's the bouncy castle." "And this brown thing with legs?" "That's a pony, Bill." "Is the pony part of the security?" "The pony is not part of the security. The pony is a pony." Molly tapped a pile of scribbled squares in the corner. "This is the target. The present table. Thirty kids attending, minimum one gift each. That's thirty gifts, Bill. Thirty." "What if some of them are socks?" "Nobody brings socks to a seven-year-old's party." "My Aunt Deborah did. Every year. I'm still bitter about it." Molly took a long, slow breath, the kind she usually saved for bank vaults and her mother. "Here's the plan. At three o'clock, the magician arrives. Every eye in that garden will be on him." "Why?" "Because I've hired him to be spectacular. I told him to make a dove disappear." "Can he do that?" "He says he can. I'm choosing to believe him. While he's performing, you slip in through the side gate dressed as a clown." Bill's face collapsed. "Why do I have to be the clown?" "Because nobody questions a clown at a children's party. A clown can go anywhere. A clown is invisible." "A clown is the least invisible thing a human being can become, Molly. I'll have a red nose. I'll have enormous shoes." "Big shoes, big pockets. It's practical." Bill folded his arms. "What are you going to be?" "I'm going to be a mum." "That's not a costume." "It is if you do it right. Cardigan, tote bag, a slightly haunted look. I'll stand by the crisps and say things like 'Has anyone seen my Oliver?' No one will ever suspect me." "There might be an actual Oliver." "There's always an actual Oliver. That's the genius of it." Bill turned the juice box over in his hands, frowning. "Molly, what happens when thirty children notice their presents are gone?" "We'll be long gone by then." "Have you ever seen thirty children notice something? My nephew once noticed I ate his last chicken nugget from across a football pitch. He chased me for a quarter of a mile. He was four." Molly paused. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a small alarm began to ring. "Then we need a distraction," she said. "The magician's already the distraction." "A second distraction." Bill's eyes drifted slowly back down to the crayon map. To the brown thing with legs. "No," Molly said. "I didn't say anything." "You were thinking about the pony." "The pony," Bill said gravely, "could be part of the security." Molly looked at the map for a long moment. Then she picked up a red crayon and drew a very small arrow pointing directly at the pony. "Fine," she said. "But you're riding it."