Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DA7D0M4TC0R251475QEQ0Z

Molly pressed her back against the brick wall and peered around the corner. The church hall glowed with fairy lights, and through the window she could see a bouncy castle, a lopsided cake, and a mountain of gift-wrapped boxes stacked beside a table covered in balloons. "Right," Bill whispered, tugging at the collar of his black turtleneck. "Phase one. We go in through the fire exit." "Phase one is the fire exit," Molly said. "Phase two is that bloke in the reindeer costume standing right next to it." Bill squinted. "That's not a bloke. That's Gary from accounts. He does parties on weekends." "Gary has a wand, Bill." "Everyone has a wand at a kids' party. It's not a security feature." Molly sighed and checked the plan scribbled on the back of a napkin. It showed a rough sketch of the hall, three arrows, and the words GET THE PRESENTS in capital letters, underlined twice. Someone had drawn a small smiley face next to the biggest box. "Okay," she said. "Distraction. You go in the front, pretend you've lost your child." "I don't have a child." "Then pretend you've lost someone's child. Make a scene. Ask for the manager." Bill brightened. "I've always wanted to ask for the manager." "And while everyone's looking at you, I slip in and grab the presents." "How many presents?" "Forty-two, according to the invitation. Possibly more if the grandparents turned up." Bill frowned. "Molly, what if they're not even good presents? What if it's socks?" "Socks are a risk we have to take." "I'm just saying, I'd feel terrible stealing a kid's remote-control helicopter." "We're not stealing the helicopter. We're stealing the box it came in. Nobody counts cardboard." Bill nodded slowly, as though this made perfect sense. "Fair. Do we need a getaway vehicle?" Molly pointed across the car park at a battered van with a hand-painted sign reading MOBILE BOUNCY CASTLE HIRE. "Already sorted. The keys were under the mat." "Whose van is that?" "Honestly? I think it's the bouncy castle man's." "Molly." "He's on a break. He'll never know." From inside, a tuneless rendition of Happy Birthday erupted, followed by a cheer so loud the windows rattled. Bill swallowed. "They're singing. I don't think I can do this. I know those kids." "You don't know those kids." "I know their faces. I watched them eat a whole sausage roll in four seconds." Molly grabbed his sleeve and dragged him toward the fire exit. "Stay focused. Think of the socks."