I picked it up.

Through the blue plastic belly, I could see two crisp one-dollar bills lying flat on the bottom.

“Responsible girls like you don’t need big shiny bows, Iris,” my father said, leaning back in his leather armchair.

“You already know how to take care of yourself.”

“Two dollars?” I asked, holding the plastic bank in my lap.

“It’s seed money,” he announced, clearing his throat.

“We’re starting your official home fund today.