Mardi Gras was their golden hour, chaotic, crowded, and cash-filled. The plan was foolproof, and it never failed. Chloe played the invisible beggar, slipping through the crowd unnoticed. She’d get close, real close, and just as James barreled into the mark with a well-timed shove, her fingers would do their work. The mark wouldn’t feel a thing. Then Todd, smooth as ever, would swoop in, grab the goods, wallet, chain, whatever, and stash it nearby. They’d been at it for years, skimming a little off the top each time. No one ever caught on. By now, their hideout had five grand and a handful of shiny trinkets tucked away.
Chloe trudged home, stomach growling louder than the street noise. She had cash on her but couldn’t touch it without her dad’s say-so.
“Dad! Mom!” she called out, stepping
