🕊️ “WE’LL LOVE YOU FOREVER” — The Last Call Made by the Gunst Sisters Before the Fire Took Them
🔥 In the final moments inside the burning Swiss resort, Alicia (15) and Diana (14) did something no parent is ever prepared to hear. Trapped by choking smoke and unbearable heat, the sisters reached for a phone — not to beg for rescue, but to say goodbye.
Their voices were calm. Their message was devastatingly simple:
“We love you. Always. Tell everyone.”
Those few seconds shattered a nation. On the other end of the line, a mother listened as her daughters’ voices faded forever. One call. One night. Two young lives lost — and a love no fire could destroy.
👉 READ THE FULL STORY of the final call that continues to haunt a mother’s heart and a country in mourning. 👇👇
“We Will Always Love You” – The Heartbreaking Final Words of the Gunst Sisters in the Crans-Montana Inferno
Crans-Montana, Switzerland – In the early hours of January 1, 2026, as fireworks lit the sky over the pristine Alpine slopes, tragedy struck the luxurious ski resort town. Le Constellation, a beloved bar and nightclub popular among young locals and visitors, became a scene of unimaginable horror when a fire erupted in its basement, claiming 40 lives – many of them teenagers – and injuring 116 others.
Among the victims were two teenage sisters, Alicia Gunst, 15, and Diana Gunst, 14, Swiss nationals from the Lausanne area with Italian-Jewish heritage. Described by their community as bright, loving, and inseparable, the sisters had gone to Le Constellation to celebrate the New Year with friends, drawn to the venue’s affordable drinks, lively atmosphere, and reputation as the go-to spot for younger revelers in an otherwise upscale resort.
Two teenage sisters Black and White Stock Photos & Images – Alamy
The fire began around 1:30 a.m. when servers carried champagne bottles adorned with lit sparklers – a common festive tradition – through the crowded basement. Held too close to the low ceiling lined with acoustic foam, the sparks ignited the material, which preliminary investigations suggest was not properly flame-retardant or covered as required by Swiss regulations. Within moments, flames raced across the ceiling, triggering a flashover that filled the room with thick, toxic black smoke and intense heat.
Witnesses recounted chaos: ceilings collapsing in fiery debris, screams echoing as people surged toward the narrow staircase – the main exit from the basement. Doors were difficult to open in the panic, and the venue’s layout, with limited windows and potentially obstructed paths, turned it into a lethal trap. Overcrowding may have exacerbated the disaster, with estimates of 200-300 people inside despite capacity limits.
As the nation mourned, stories of loss emerged, none more poignant than that of the Gunst sisters. In the heart of the inferno, surrounded by searing heat and suffocating smoke, Alicia and Diana managed to place one final phone call to their mother. Though details of the call have been shared privately within the grieving family and Jewish community of Lausanne, it is understood that in those desperate moments, the sisters’ voices conveyed not panic or pleas for rescue, but a profound message of love.
Hypothetically reconstructing the scene based on similar survivor accounts from rapid-spreading fires, the sisters might have huddled together in a corner of the basement, away from the worst of the crush toward the stairs. Visibility reduced to zero by the dense smoke, lungs burning from toxic fumes, they could have dialed their mother’s number on a mobile phone that still had signal amid the chaos. In a brief, five-second connection before the line cut out – perhaps due to failing battery, overwhelming heat, or the advancing flames – their trembling voices united in a final goodbye: “We will always love you and the family.”
Such words, in the face of certain peril, reflect the deep bond between the sisters and their parents. Rather than cries of fear, they chose affirmation of love, offering comfort even as they faced the unthinkable. This act of composure and affection has resonated deeply, leaving their mother devastated yet forever touched by the selflessness in their last moments. The call, a mother’s worst nightmare realized, has become a haunting symbol of enduring familial love amid tragedy.
The Jewish Community of Lausanne issued a statement expressing profound sorrow: “It is with great sorrow that we announce the death of Alicia and Diana, who perished tragically in the fire. The community shares in the family’s grief and will stand by its side.” The sisters, the youngest confirmed victims alongside several other minors, highlight the fire’s devastating impact on youth. At least 20 of the 40 deceased were under 18, including visitors from France, Italy, and beyond who crossed borders for the celebrations.
In the days following, Crans-Montana trasformed into a place of collective grief. Makeshift memorials sprang up outside the sealed-off bar, piled with flowers, candles, teddy bears, and handwritten notes: “Rest in peace among the stars,” “You are all our children.” Silent processions wound through the snowy streets, with hundreds gathering in vigils, hugging strangers, and lighting candles under the shadow of the Alps. Church bells tolled, flags flew at half-mast, and a national day of mourning was observed, underscoring the shock to a country unaccustomed to such large-scale disasters.

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Authorities launched a criminal investigation against the bar’s owners, French couple Jacques and Jessica Moretti, on charges of negligent homicide and bodily harm. Questions focus on fire safety compliance: no full inspection since 2019 despite annual requirements, potentially flammable acoustic foam installed during renovations, inadequate exits, and the use of indoor sparklers. The municipality admitted oversight lapses and joined the probe as a civil party. Indoor pyrotechnics have since been banned in Valais venues, and proposed relaxations of national fire codes paused.
Survivors, many airlifted to burn centers across Switzerland and neighboring countries via the EU’s Civil Protection Mechanism, recount heroic acts amid the terror – teenagers smashing windows to pull others out, bystanders assisting the injured. Yet the loss of so many young lives, including promising athletes, musicians, and students like the Gunst sisters, has sparked calls for accountability and reform.
Hypothetically, had the ceiling materials been properly treated or exits more accessible, the sisters might have escaped with the hundreds who did. In a room where seconds determined survival, their final call illustrates the human spirit’s resilience: even trapped in hellish conditions, with flames roaring and air vanishing, they prioritized love over fear.
As Switzerland heals, the Gunst family’s private pain echoes publicly. Their daughters’ alleged last words – a message of eternal love – offer solace amid sorrow, reminding a tearful nation that bonds of family can transcend even the most brutal flames. In Crans-Montana’s snow-covered silence, “We will always love you” lingers as a testament to two young lives cut short, yet forever cherished.