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“Tomorrow morning, first thing. While Mal is still sleeping off his hangover,” Rapunzel said. The beard shifted to a happy portrait of Rapunzel and Parker outside the tower, and then quickly morphed back into indecipherable static. It might work, but there were just too many variables to know for sure. “See? It’s going to be fine. We have a possibility of making it out if we wait until tomorrow,” Parker said. Rapunzel pointed at the table. “There’s also the possibility of an awful death, either for us or for the others.” The wavy lines were making him so nervous he cleared his beard off of the surface and stood up to pace. “We can do this,” Parker said, and he wished—if only for a moment—he could have her confidence. “Yes, starting tomorrow morning, we have a chance.” “Got anything