We always had one simple rule at dinner: no phones. It was our quiet time together, away from the noise of the world. Last night, halfway through the meal, my husband’s phone lit up. He glanced at it but didn’t pick it up, respecting our rule. Minutes later, it started buzzing again, over and over.
He tried to ignore it, but the persistent alerts made it clear something unusual was happening. Finally, he reached for the phone, his face shifting as he read the screen. “Oh no! Mom,” he shouted. He quickly stood up, dialing a number with urgency. I watched as he explained the situation to the police and gave them his mother’s address.
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