Run: 2026-10-27-01M5YGP26230MA9EE4NXVMPV27

Molly spread the birthday invitation across the kitchen table and flattened its curling corners with a salt shaker, a spoon, and two unpaid electricity bills. A cartoon dinosaur grinned beneath the words LEO IS FIVE! The party was scheduled for Saturday at the community hall, an establishment Bill had once been thrown out of for cheating at bingo. “The invitation says there’ll be a magician, a bouncy castle, and cake shaped like a volcano,” Molly said. “Excellent,” said Bill. “A magician gives us someone to blame if anything disappears, especially the cake.” Molly drew a rectangle on the back of an envelope. This was the hall. She added a square for the gift table, a circle for the bouncy castle, and a small, furious spiral to represent Leo’s grandmother, whom she had seen enforcing queue discipline at the bakery. “No cake,” she said. “We take the presents, every last one, and leave before anyone opens them.” “According to this drawing, the grandmother is bigger than the building. Is that to scale?” “Emotionally, yes.” Bill studied the spiral. He had met formidable grandmothers before, generally moments before being hit with a handbag. He suggested disguising themselves as parents, but Molly pointed out that parents tended to arrive with children, and neither of them knew how to operate one. “What about clowns?” he asked. “Absolutely not. You cried when the balloon animal burst, and that was during a training exercise.” They considered the guest list, which Molly had obtained by pretending to be a caterer’s assistant and asking if anyone had allergies. Twenty-three children were expected, along with enough adults to require a large urn of tea. The presents would be placed near the stage, where they could be admired and, more importantly, reached through a side door. “I could deliver a replacement cake,” Bill said. “Nobody questions a man carrying a volcano.” “Our cake would need a hollow center, wheels, and a very convincing layer of chocolate frosting.” Bill fetched his toolbox and began measuring the kitchen table as though it were a cake. Molly watched him jot the dimensions on his palm. The wheels were easy; the frosting would be difficult, given that Bill’s last attempt at icing had needed a paint scraper and several hours of soaking. “We load the presents through the top,” Molly said, “then roll the cake out during the magic show.” “Then I make my escape, while the magician gets blamed and you eat the evidence.” Molly allowed herself a smile. The plan had elegance, provided the magician was sufficiently distracting and Bill did not eat the evidence prematurely. She made a shopping list: plywood, casters, cocoa powder, one striped shirt for herself, and a bouquet of flowers for Leo’s grandmother. “Are the flowers a bribe?” Bill asked. “She looks expensive.” “Only a distraction. You’ll be wearing the vase if they fail.” Outside, a delivery van rattled past. Bill looked at his measurements again and realized the cake would be too wide for the side door. Molly crossed out the rectangle on the envelope and drew a longer, narrower one. They would make an éclair instead, she said. With enough red icing, it could still be a volcano.