I met Luna during my first expedition to El Salvador when her mother brought her into the government clinic at midnight. Luna was suffering a dangerous asthma attack. I was there investigating the veracity of the government’s social projects, such as this remote clinic. And because my method is to simply move in and wait, I was there at that clinic the night when Luna arrived.

Social projects quickly receded from view as my reporting turned to the government’s war on gangs, but over the course of a year I kept returning to the island to see my friend David, the fisherman, and Luna and her family. Over time, I recorded a deep picture of Luna’s life: at school, playing princess, and with her father at the wild, remote beach. This island is a wild place and the beach is not a beach for beachcombers; it is the edge of the earth, difficult to reach because no houses exist on the ocean side of the island – the weather is too difficult. One side of the island is dark and quiet against a channel of black water and mangroves. The other side is the moon. And Luna loves it, though she only gets to go with her father when he has time.

Far from the gangs and prisons, I saw the future of El Salvador.