The gripping headline — “She walked back into the flames — and never came out the same” — captures the raw heroism and heartbreaking cost of one young woman’s split-second decision during one of Switzerland’s deadliest peacetime disasters in recent memory. Roze, an 18-year-old Swiss woman (full name reported in some sources as Saphir Rose or simply Roze), now lies in critical condition in the specialized burn unit at CHU de Liège in Belgium, fighting for survival after third-degree burns ravaged her face, scalp, and both hands. Witnesses and emerging accounts describe how she initially escaped the inferno at Le Constellation bar in Crans-Montana on New Year’s Eve 2025, only to turn back into the blazing chaos to rescue a friend and colleague. That act of extraordinary courage has left her intubated, in an induced coma, and facing a long, uncertain road of reconstructive surgeries, pain management, and psychological recovery—if she survives the immediate critical phase.
The tragedy unfolded in the early hours of January 1, 2026, in the upscale Alpine ski resort of Crans-Montana, perched high in the Valais canton. Le Constellation, a popular basement bar known for its vibrant New Year’s celebrations, was packed with revelers—mostly young people in their teens and 20s—when disaster struck around 1:26 a.m. CET. Preliminary investigations by Valais prosecutors point to a seemingly festive but fatally reckless moment: sparklers attached to champagne bottles were hoisted aloft during toasts, their sparks igniting flammable soundproofing foam on the low ceiling. Within seconds, flames raced across the material, turning the crowded space into a deadly trap of smoke, heat, and panic. Narrow stairways and exits became bottlenecks; toxic fumes filled the air; screams echoed as partygoers clawed toward safety.

The official toll is staggering: 40 people lost their lives, ranging in age from 14 to 39, with 15 victims under 18. Among the dead were teenagers from Switzerland, France, Italy, and beyond—promising students, athletes, aspiring DJs, and young professionals whose futures were extinguished in an instant. Another 116 were injured, 83 of them with severe burns requiring intensive care. Hospitals in Valais quickly reached capacity, prompting urgent transfers of dozens of gravely wounded patients to specialized burn centers across Europe, including in Belgium, France, and Germany. Roze is one of seven victims currently receiving treatment at CHU Liège, where her condition remains life-threatening.
Roze had been working that night as a photographer at Le Constellation, capturing the joy of New Year’s revelry alongside her close friend and colleague, Nouran. The two young women were part of the bar’s lively staff, blending into the crowd of celebrants while snapping photos and helping with the festive atmosphere. As the first flickers of fire appeared—visible in haunting social media footage showing bottles with sparklers dangerously close to the ceiling—chaos erupted. Witnesses described a rapid escalation: smoke billowing, lights flickering out, people pushing and falling in the dark.
According to accounts from survivors and Roze’s family, she managed to reach an exit amid the pandemonium. But in that moment of relative safety, she realized her friend Nouran was still inside, trapped or disoriented. Without hesitation, Roze turned back into the inferno. She re-entered the burning bar, navigating through thickening smoke and flames in a desperate bid to find and save her colleague. The decision cost her dearly: flames engulfed her, searing her face, scalp, and hands as she searched. Eventually, rescuers or other survivors pulled her out, but the damage was catastrophic—third-degree burns that destroyed skin and tissue, exposing her to immediate risks of infection, shock, and organ failure.
Emergency services arrived swiftly, but the scene was apocalyptic. Firefighters battled intense heat and structural concerns while paramedics triaged victims outside in sub-zero temperatures. Roze was rushed first to the regional hospital in Sion, where initial stabilization efforts took place. Her injuries were so extensive that she was placed in an artificial coma to manage pain and reduce metabolic stress on her body. Intubated and heavily sedated, she was airlifted or transported to Belgium’s premier burn center at CHU Liège, one of Europe’s leading facilities for severe burn cases. Doctors there have warned that her prognosis is guarded; third-degree burns over significant portions of the face, head, and hands often require multiple skin grafts, reconstructive procedures, and long-term rehabilitation. Infection remains a constant threat, and the psychological impact of such disfiguring injuries can be profound.

Roze’s father, Huseyin (or Usseigne in some reports), has maintained a constant vigil at her bedside since the transfer. In emotional interviews with Belgian media like RTL Info and Quatre Liege Media, he described the agonizing wait after receiving a frantic call around 4:30 a.m. from Nouran’s mother: “They told us the girls were burned and we needed to come to the hospital in Sion.” Arriving to find his daughter in critical condition was devastating. “My priority is my daughter—she must fight, she must live,” he said, his voice breaking. Unable to embrace her due to her bandaged state and medical equipment, he spends his days offering quiet encouragement, holding her unburned hand when possible, and clinging to the doctors’ cautious optimism. He has spoken openly about Roze’s bravery: she returned not for herself, but for her friend, embodying the selflessness that has touched so many in the aftermath.
The broader context of the Crans-Montana fire amplifies the tragedy. Le Constellation, owned by Jacques and Jessica Moretti, had been a staple of the resort’s nightlife. The couple faced immediate scrutiny; Jacques Moretti was placed in provisional detention for three months on suspicion of negligent homicide and other charges related to safety violations. Prosecutors are examining whether the soundproofing foam complied with fire regulations, if sparklers were permitted indoors, and whether adequate evacuation measures existed. Jessica Moretti issued a tearful apology in early interviews, expressing constant thoughts for the victims and their families. One co-owner reportedly fled with the cash register during the escape, fueling public outrage.
Survivors’ stories paint a picture of heroism amid horror. Some young people smashed windows with furniture to create escape routes; others helped carry the injured. Yet the narrow layout and rapid smoke spread claimed too many lives. National mourning followed: church bells tolled across Switzerland, a minute of silence was observed, and silent marches filled Crans-Montana’s streets with candles and tears. Families grieved publicly—mothers posting videos of lost children “partying in paradise,” friends sharing memories of shared dreams.
For Roze, the fight continues. Burn recovery is grueling: daily wound care, surgeries to release contractures, pressure garments to minimize scarring, physical therapy to regain hand function, and psychological support to process trauma and altered appearance. Her act of turning back has inspired tributes online and in the press, with many calling her a true hero. Yet it also raises haunting questions: Could better fire safety—sprinklers, flame-retardant materials, stricter pyrotechnic rules—have prevented this? How can venues balance celebration with life-saving precautions?
As Roze battles in her induced coma, her story stands as a poignant symbol of courage in catastrophe. She walked back into the flames for love and friendship—and emerged forever changed. Her survival would be a miracle; her legacy, already etched in the hearts of those she touched, is one of unbreakable bravery. In the quiet corridors of CHU Liège, amid beeping monitors and whispered prayers, a young woman’s fight reminds the world that heroism often comes at the highest personal cost.
The community around her—family, friends, medical teams—urges hope. Donations and support networks have sprung up; burn survivor organizations offer resources. If Roze pulls through, her journey will inspire awareness about fire safety in entertainment venues and the resilience required after profound loss.
In this Alpine tragedy that stole so many futures, Roze’s story endures as a beacon: one girl’s selfless choice amid chaos, a father’s unwavering love, and a global reminder that life can turn on a single, heroic moment.