From inside, faint strains of humming floated, but were slowly replaced by a quiet snore. It seemed Magnolia had fallen asleep after her hard labor in the kitchen. The boys knew their golden chance had finally arrived.
Connor’s grin gleamed dangerously. “There’s our trophy tonight,” he whispered, waving at the tray of cookies. Trevor, Malik, and the others shuffled nervously but followed. They crept through the squealing gate—ajar as on many days—and padded up the porch steps.