For the past year, I’ve been working in busy Kyiv, Odessa or Dnipro, away from the battles, photographing resilience and the targeting of Ukraine’s culture — or just waiting for promises of military access, which is granted less frequently these days.

In the dead of night, confusion wakes you — was that an explosion? Another blast confirms it, and more questions start swirling: Was a missile shot down, or did a drone hit its target?

The day’s work is set. Where did it hit? Can we get there? How many injured, how many dead? Who will be crying, who will be angry? How many worlds changed forever?