As the flames tore through the district, the city seemed to hold its breath.
Families gathered at windows and balconies, watching the orange glare stain the night.
In the distance, the relentless wail of sirens blended with the crackle of burning roofs and the thud of helicopters circling overhead.
For many, it felt less like a single fire and more like a moment that split “before” and “after.”
On the ground, firefighters moved in exhausted rotations, faces streaked with soot, refusing to stop while any building still stood at risk.
Volunteers brought water, blankets, and phone chargers to those evacuated with nothing but the clothes they wore.
Authorities promised answers about the cause, but for now, the city’s focus remained painfully simple: account for every life,
shelter every displaced family, and somehow, by morning, prove that the community was stronger than the flames that tried to break it
