Erin turned the knife over in her hands and looked at Holtzmann quizzically.
"Uh, what's it do?" She asked. She had a feeling it would either be very, very dangerous or...
Holtzmann grinned.
"It's a Swiss Army Knife. Every woman should have one."
Erin rolled her eyes.
It was a couple of hours later that Erin felt the knife in her pocket. She pulled it out and held it between her thumb and forefinger, gently rubbing it. Thinking. She felt a raised edge and flipped the knife upside down to examine the mark.
Messily scrawled in Holtz's manic handwriting was the letters "J.H" burnt into the plastic casing. It had probably been done with a hot screwdriver, judging by shape of the full-stop. Erin thought that the way Jillian played with fire was pretty dangerous, but then that was Holtzmann all over. Dangerous, risky, but exciting all the same. Erin furrowed her eyebrows.
"Still can't believe she gave you that." Abby's bemused voice broke into Erin's musings, dragging her back to the surface. "She always has it on her. Ever since I've known her. It's like her most treasured possession. She fiddles with it when she's upset, so I don't know what compelled her to give it to you."
Erin frowned, chewing the inside of her mouth thoughtfully. The pieces didn't add up.
"But I'm just Erin. I'm nobody."
Abby laughed. "I don't think you're nobody to Holtz. In fact, I'd go as far as to say you're Holtzmann's favourite person in the world."
Patty elbowed Abby hard in the ribs.
"Girl, this ain't our business. Let her work it out." She said, but Erin had stopped listening.
Holtzmann had given her something precious. Erin wondered if she had anything to give back.