The devastating fire that tore through Le Constellation bar in the upscale Swiss ski resort of Crans-Montana on New Year’s Eve 2025 claimed 40 lives and left 119 injured, many with severe burns requiring intensive care. Among the victims was 16-year-old Arthur Brodard, a promising young football player from Lutry whose disappearance plunged his family into agony. His mother, Laetitia Brodard-Sitre, has since emerged as a vocal critic of local authorities, accusing them of negligence and delays that she believes contributed to her son’s fate. In raw, emotional statements, she declared, “My son’s blood is on their hands,” pointing to what she sees as failures in safety oversight, emergency response, and the handling of the aftermath.

Arthur, who turned 17 shortly after the tragedy would have occurred, was a beloved member of the Lutry Football Club, where he played and coached younger teams. Described by teammates as kind, energetic, and always smiling, he embodied youthful promise on the pitch. On December 31, 2025, he traveled to Crans-Montana with friends for New Year’s celebrations, reserving a table at Le Constellation—a popular basement venue known for its lively atmosphere during the holiday season.

The night began with joy: music, laughter, and the anticipation of 2026. Shortly after 1:30 a.m. on January 1, disaster struck. Sparkler-style fountains atop champagne bottles ignited flammable materials on the low ceiling, spreading flames rapidly in the crowded, confined space. Thick smoke filled the air, visibility plummeted, and panic erupted as patrons scrambled for the narrow stairwell exit. The venue’s layout and potential overcrowding turned escape into a nightmare, trapping many inside.

In the immediate aftermath, 40 people perished, including half minors and 20 teenagers. The injured required urgent treatment, with some airlifted to specialized burn units in Switzerland and abroad. Lutry Football Club suffered profoundly: seven young members, including Arthur, lost their lives, while five others fought for survival in hospitals.

Arthur was initially listed as missing. Laetitia, frantic, traveled to Crans-Montana, spoke to media, and posted appeals online, sharing photos of her son and pleading for information. She recounted the last contact: a text at 3 a.m. saying “Mom, Happy New Year, I love you,” followed by a disappearing video of him partying with friends. “Since then, nothing,” she said tearfully in early interviews. “I’m living a nightmare. Either I find my son in the morgue, or I find him in critical condition. It’s terrible.”

For nearly three days, she endured torment, checking morgues, hospitals, and waiting for identification efforts complicated by severe burns. She provided DNA samples and clung to hope he might be among unidentified injured. Authorities faced criticism for slow communication and the chaotic scene, with families frustrated by limited updates.

On January 3 or 4, confirmation arrived: Arthur was identified among the deceased. Laetitia announced it on Facebook: “Our Arthur has now gone to party in paradise. We can finally begin our mourning, knowing he rests in peace.” In a video, visibly shaken, she expressed grief mixed with resolve.

Her anger soon turned toward Crans-Montana authorities and venue operators. She accused local officials of failing to enforce safety standards in a popular basement bar during peak season. Questions arose about flammable decorations, inadequate exits, overcrowding, and compliance with fire regulations. Prosecutors opened a criminal probe into the bar’s French owners, Jacques and Jessica Moretti, on charges including negligent homicide and arson by negligence. Jacques was detained as a flight risk, with reports of him allegedly fleeing with cash as flames spread.

Laetitia’s “blood on their hands” statement captured widespread frustration. She argued that better inspections or quicker response could have saved lives, including her son’s. The tragedy highlighted vulnerabilities in nightlife venues, especially those attracting young crowds in holiday hotspots. Crans-Montana, known for luxury skiing, became synonymous with grief, with memorials of flowers and candles outside the charred bar.

Arthur’s funeral on January 8 in Lutry drew teammates as pallbearers, with Laetitia holding a white teddy bear and red rose—club colors—amid tributes. The club lost a significant portion of its youth squad, leaving voids on and off the field.

The incident prompted national calls for stricter venue regulations and fire safety in nightlife spots. Support networks mobilized: fundraisers, counseling, and reflections on negligence in affluent societies.

Laetitia’s outspoken grief evolved into advocacy, demanding accountability. Her words—”My son’s blood is on their hands”—echo the pain of families who lost children in preventable circumstances. As Switzerland heals, Arthur’s story endures as a symbol of lost potential and a mother’s unyielding fight for justice amid unimaginable sorrow.