Choose the right alternative.
Everywhere she looked was destruction. The village was a , smoking ruin. Like all the buildings, the café had no roof. Flames licked out of the windows, across the road into the trees. The parked cars blackened shells now, the tyres still burning furiously. The front the shop had entirely caved in. Sofia got down, opened the door and hobbled out into the . The minaret had fallen right across School Lane, obliterating the houses . Martha still lay outside her café, but now her dog was beside her. He was not. Sofia sat down on the bench in the middle of the square she was farthest from the heat of the fires. She had tears left to cry.
