My four-year-old son called me while I was at work, his little voice trembling through the phone.
“Gυarda sileпcio” My phone started vibrating against the polished wood of the conference table. At first, I ignored it. Budget meetings were sacred in our office: cramped, crowded, and with no room for interruptions. They were the kind of meetings where even a simple glance at the phone provoked disapproving looks. It started buzzing…
