The moment we reached the pack house, my stomach dropped. Smoke rose into the sky like a dark banner, and flames still flickered along the west wing, turning everything into chaos. The stench of burning wood, blood, and fear hit me full force as we stepped out of the car. People were running in every direction, warriors trying to organize the chaos while mothers cried out for their children. It was a war zone.
Thick smoke billowed from the west wing, flames licking the sky as the crumbling structure cast eerie shadows across the ground. My gut clenched, a sick feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. The stench of burning wood, blood, and fear filled the air, a chaotic mess of sounds and scents assaulting my senses as people screamed and ran in every direction.
The place was in ruins.
