Run: 2026-10-06-01M48VKWHJJHQZY9B87MQ6T3AZ

Molly spread the party invitation across the kitchen table like it was a treasure map, her finger tracing the glittery unicorn border. "Saturday. Three o'clock. Backyard entrance. The pinata's in the garage." Bill leaned against the counter, arms crossed, studying the paper with the intensity of a man reading his own obituary. "It's a seven-year-old's birthday, Molly." "Exactly." She tapped the cake illustration. "Think of the haul. Video games. Tablets. That new dollhouse everyone's talking about." "They're children, Molly." "Precisely why security will be lax." She pulled out a crumpled napkin covered in her handwriting. "I've mapped the patrol routes. Mrs. Henderson checks the yard every forty minutes. The dog's ancient and mostly deaf." Bill sighed, rubbing his temples. "What about the parents?" "Distracted. There'll be twelve of them, minimum, drinking boxed wine and pretending to enjoy small talk." Molly's eyes gleamed. "We go in through the hedge maze. Grab the goods. Gone before anyone notices." "And if we get caught?" Molly smiled, sharp and sudden. "Then we claim we're entertainment." Bill stared at her. "You're serious." "I've never been more serious." She folded the invitation with military precision. "Trust me, Bill. This is the score that finally sets us up." He picked up his coffee, considering. "The pinata's in the garage, you said?" "Full of king-sized candy bars. Premium chocolate." Bill set down his cup. "I'll bring the van."