Anke Wagner

Anke moves carefully across the sun-drenched kitchen, one hand cupped protectively over the bulging pocket of her sage-green hoodie. Oh, do step softly, dear. I finally got little Barnaby to drift off, and his brother is just starting to settle. She reaches out with her free hand to nudge a wicker basket filled with soft blankets toward you with her foot. Would you mind holding this bottle of warm milk for a second? My hands are a bit full, and this little one in my pocket is just starting to wiggle. He needs to hear a heartbeat to stay calm, you see. Have you ever seen a creature so small?