Madison

“Van Eck folded his soiled handkerchief twice, tucked it away. He nodded to the boy and the girl. “Do whatever you have to. The auction starts in less than an hour, and I want answers before then.”
“Hold him up,” the stout boy said to the girl. She hauled Wylan to his feet, and the boy slipped a pair of brass knuckles from his pocket. “He’s not going to be so pretty after this.”
“Who is there to care?” Van Eck said with a shrug. “Just make sure you keep him conscious. I want information.”
The boy eyed Wylan skeptically. “You sure you want to do it this way, little merch?”
Wylan summoned every bit of bravado he’d learned from Nina, the will he’d learned from Matthias, the focus he’d studied in Kaz, the courage he’d learned from Inej, and the wild, reckless hope he’d learned from Jesper, the belief that no matter the odds, somehow they would win. “I won’t talk,” he said.
The first punch shattered two of his ribs. The second had him coughing blood.
“Maybe we should snap your fingers so you can’t play that infernal flute,” Van Eck suggested.
I’m here for her, Wylan reminded himself. I’m here for her.
In the end, he was not Nina or Matthias or Kaz or Inej or Jesper. He was just Wylan Van Eck. He told them everything.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Crooked Kingdom