From the moment I first heard that story, I felt a chill that stayed with me longer than I expected. An ordinary night, a store, women working… and at dawn, only silence and tragedy. “The Coppel Case” became a symbol of horror and mystery: six women who took a night inventory at a branch, and never left alive.
I felt compelled to share this story not to shock, but to remind everyone that behind every cruel news story there are faces, broken families, unanswered questions, and a community demanding justice. Because when something like this happens, no one should forget it.
It was the night of November 10, 2010, when six employees entered a Coppel store in downtown Culiacán, Sinaloa, to perform night inventory. What seemed like a routine task turned into a nightmare. Around 9:50 p.m., a fire broke out. What followed was a tragic chain of events with irreversible consequences.
According to testimonies from employees and workers in the area, the entrances were closed that day: the doors were padlocked, the windows sealed, and the metal shutters lowered. The women were trapped with no way to escape.
Firefighters from Culiacán, along with Civil Protection personnel and staff from nearby municipalities, worked for more than 13 hours to control the flames. But it was already too late for them. The combination of dense smoke, fire, and blocked access made evacuation impossible.
The victims died primarily from asphyxiation. Three of the bodies were partially burned. They were identified as: Ariana López Soto (24 years old), Carmen Selene Moreno Zazueta (36 years old), Verónica Picos Bastidas (22 years old), Claudia Yaneth Bernal Delgado (25 years old), Rosa Imelda Félix Gamboa, and another young woman whose name also appears in the records.
The most disturbing thing: several workers managed to contact both rescuers and their families, pleading for help. They said they were trapped, unable to open the doors. But those who arrived at the scene discovered that it was nearly impossible to break the metal curtains, padlocks, or seals securing the exits.
As crews battled the flames, the fire seemed to reignite at critical moments. It was a difficult fight. Some attempts to breach walls or create openings were made with heavy machinery, although the situation was already critical.
In the days that followed, the victims’ families began demanding answers. Who ordered the entrances closed? Was there an emergency protocol in place? Did the store have alternative exits? Many of these questions remained unanswered for years.
One of the public promises was that information would be provided to the authorities and support would be given to the families. Coppel executives stated that a short circuit in the basement may have been the cause of the fire, and that it spread to the upper floors. But these explanations failed to convince those who witnessed the tragedy firsthand.
The families demanded not only justice, but also concrete actions: compensation, support for orphaned children, return of belongings, and the truth about what happened. Months, years passed, and many of those promises remained unfulfilled, hanging in the air, amidst words and words.
To put a human face on this case, one only needs to imagine what it meant for the orphaned children. Claudia Bernal had a young son, Sebastián, who would never fully understand why his mother didn’t return. Carmen Moreno left behind a son named Ángel, who was left in the care of relatives. Every face left behind experienced pain, silence, and an agonizing wait.
One striking detail: some employees mentioned that it was common practice to “close” the store at night for inventory or cash reconciliation. While this doesn’t excuse anything, it adds a layer of suspicion to the case: an internal procedure that, having become routine, may have overlooked security risks.
Another point of contention: the emergency exits. Reports indicate there was only one exit, and that it was on the roof, inaccessible without special equipment. This would imply that, if the workers had keys to other doors, they did not, since they were unable to escape.
The official investigations never definitively concluded regarding responsibility. In some speeches, it was indicated that advanced, nearly completed, expert studies were underway. But the families continued to demand clarity and justice.
Beyond the technical aspects of the incident, this story is deeply moving. Imagining those women suffocating, trapped, calling for help, as smoke engulfed everything, evokes a profound sense of helplessness that is difficult to shake. How many times have vulnerable workers been forgotten or rendered invisible by weakened regulations or a culture of impunity?
There are also those who warn about the line between rumor and fiction: versions of leaked photographs are circulating, as well as the use of the case as the basis for series or related narratives, some true and others exaggerated. For example, journalistic investigations have debunked the claim that certain images attributed to the fire actually correspond to the real tragedy.
This case remains vivid in the collective memory of Culiacán and all of Mexico. The families insist that condolences and speeches are not enough. They want clear answers, sanctions, and a dignified closure to the unresolved pain. And often, this demand clashes with institutional slowness.
Perhaps some days a fire is just an accident. But in the Coppel case, the circumstances—locked doors, blocked access, lax protocol—create an intimate scenario of responsibility. It is not easy to separate the tragedy from carelessness, negligence, or administrative silence.
In the end, “the six who never made it out alive” are not just names on a register, but lives cut short, stories cut short that left families broken. As real as it is tragic, this event forces us to remember that behind every shop, every contract, every night shift, there are human beings with rights and protection.
Today, years later, the flame still burns: the demand for justice continues, as does the memory of those women who entered on November 10th convinced they would leave as they had entered. And so it was not.
