Phoebe Halliwell sat nervously in her car, gazing upon the overwhelming presence of the Halliwell manor. It had been nearly four years since she had set a foot inside her childhood home, or since she had seen her sisters. Four years since she had abandoned the power of three. Abandoned? Yes, that is exactly what it had been. She had disappeared in the middle of the night, leaving behind nothing, not even a note. Running away had been easy – physically at least. Emotionally, it had been a rough four years. In San Francisco, she had left behind her family, the only thing that had ever really mattered to her. Starting anew in a different city, in a different country, had been so hard, but nothing compared to the difficulty of the task set at hand, behind the manor's old oak doors. There was nothing that was going to be easy about confronting the sisters that she had been so quick to abandon four years earlier. Nothing at all.
Finally gaining some confidence, Phoebe climbed out of her car and started up the familiar steps towards the entrance of the manor. Her stomach flipped with anticipation as she rang the door bell and heard the scampering of tiny feet. The door finally creaked open, revealing a small, dark haired child. "Oh my god...Chris," Phoebe whispered as she brought her hand to her mouth.
Attempting to hold back her tears, Phoebe realized just how much she had missed while spending four years in hiding. Chris had been just a baby when she had left. Now, he must have been four, maybe even five years old.
"Who are you?" questioned the tiny voice, quickly snapping Phoebe back into reality.
"Oh, I'm sorry honey," Phoebe began." I'm..."
"Aunt Phoebe!" came the energetic cry of an older boy who had just run into the hallway.
Upon recognizing the woman in the doorway, he sprinted into her arms. "I've missed you!" the boy continued.
"Wyatt," murmured Phoebe with difficulty, as she began to feel the formation of a lump inside of her throat. "You remember me?"
"Of course I do!" The boy excitedly responded. Leaning towards her ear, the boy continued in a whisper, "You're my favourite."
"Aunt Phoebe?" the younger boy questioned as she released Wyatt from their embrace. "But mom says you don't exist."
"That's because she doesn't" came the monotone response from the dark haired women who had suddenly appeared inside the hallway. The women's eyes, filled with anger, connected with Phoebe's as she continued, "I've never seen you before in my life. Now get the hell out of my house."
"Piper don't do this," Phoebe cried, tears of emotion now streaming down her face. "I'm sorry, but let me explain why I'm here. Please! Just let me explain!"
"Get out," Piper hissed as she edged her sister out of the manor. "You don't belong in this family any more."
Phoebe jumped as she watched the door slam in her face. She hadn't thought that Piper would be like this. She hadn't expected it at all. Hysterically, she collapsed in her car, terrified at the prospect of being disowned. Piper couldn't have meant it. No. Not her sister the mediator, the one always trying to keep the family together. But it didn't matter what her sister had said, or what she had meant. Phoebe was determined to contact her sisters. She was determined to reunite the power of three, determined to change the future.