It was one copper penny, smooth and shiny, catching the pink light of the low sun.

I reached over and took the coin from his fingers, resting my thumb on its smooth face.

“Is it dirty like the ones from the shop?” Lily asked, climbing the porch steps to stand next to her brother.

“No,” I said, looking down at the bright copper gleaming in my open hand.

“This one’s perfectly clean.”

Noah gazed out at the yard, where orange maple leaves were blowing across the grass.

“Can we keep it in Lily’s jar under her bed?” Noah asked.