The driver frowned, tapping his tablet. “The order definitely says 1420 Hollow Creek Road.”

“The client made a mistake when placing the order,” I said. “This was actually supposed to be a donation.”

“A donation?” the driver asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Do you know where the Maple Street Women’s Shelter is? It’s back in town.”

He blinked at me, looking confused. “The one near the old mill?”

“That’s the one,” I said. “It’s about ten minutes from here. Go back down the main road and take your first left.”

“But the name on the order—”

“I’m family,” I said, pulling a twenty-dollar bill from my apron pocket and pushing it through the gate. “We want this redirected there. They have thirty women and children who would love a hot meal tonight.”

The driver looked at the bill, then back at his screen.

He shrugged. “As long as it’s paid for, I just need a signature for the redirection.”

I took the stylus and signed Juliette’s name on his screen.

My hand didn’t shake.

“Thank you,” I said.

“No problem, ma’am. Have a good night.”