Sam circulated around the Halliwell manor giving an appreciative glance every once and a while. He mingled with the guests who were sharing stories about how they knew Prue and how she was a force to be reckoned with; a perfect balance of being cautious and knowing when to take risks. She had been extremely successful at everything she did and people remembered.

Sam observed Phoebe as she bumbled about the room cleaning and greeting guests as graciously as one could in this kind of situation, taking time to rest only when the swarthy man Sam assumed was her boyfriend was around. While they turned to each other for comfort Sam couldn't help but feel sorry for Piper's husband who was obviously being shut out by his devastated wife. As he waited and watched for something to happen, he overheard more tales about Prue and stopped to listen to one in particular.

He recognized the woman instantly. Her name was Maggie Murphy and she had been interviewed by the press for her good work, even being called a saint by some. When her luck had changed all of a sudden the press had taken notice. Sam had always thought that it was something supernatural but as far back as he could remember John Winchester had been against going to California. Whatever it was that kept them at bay must have really scared his father because they had only been in California once when Sam was thirteen years old.

"She was my angel," Maggie told the group who stood around her. "She was the photographer for my 415 article and it was right around the time I started having freak accidents of bad luck. Prue was there when I decided that I was too much of a danger to the people around me. I was going to jump but she appeared just out of thin air and she talked me down."

"I saw that on the news," a middle aged man said. "Didn't you jump anyway?"

"No," Maggie said. "I was getting off the ledge when I slipped and fell. Over the next twenty-four hours she kept showing up exactly when I needed her. I thought she was an angel, at first. Maybe now she is," Maggie said sadly.

Sam was contemplating Maggie's story when he heard a raised voice; Piper had come in while he wasn't looking and was clearly agitated.

"You can tell them that they buried their precious Charmed ones when we buried our sister," she exclaimed and stormed up the stairs.

Sam took out his phone and googled charmed ones.

Dean entered the church and stopped for a moment to look at the grandeur of it all. It might have put a little belief into him if he didn't think the silence so eerie. Getting up towards the alter, he looked up to see the ceiling adorned with angels and depictions from the Bible. He was in the middle of this when a nun appeared out of nowhere.

"May I help you," she asked. "I don't believe I've seen you at our parish before."

"I'm usually not the churhc going type," Dean said tongue in cheek.

"So what brings you here today?"

"I'm looking into an adoption for a client," he said pretending he was a private investigator. "I believe she was left here on August 2nd, 1978," hoping the nun would have some information for him.

"The child is your client," the nun said unsure if she should trust him.

"Yeah, her name is Paige Matthews. Do you have any information about her birth family?"

"Follow me," she told him. "I was alone here, the night they came with her."

"They?"

"Her parents," she said with a whimsical look on her face. "Angels; they appeared to me in a bright white light, with her in their arms. They asked me to find her a good home, and asked that her name begin with the letter P."

"If they were angels then why did the have to give her up?"

"They said she was in grave danger. I could tell how much it hurt them to give her away," the sister said. "Here," she said turning to a cabinet before removing a trunk and setting it on a table. "This is the baby blanket they wrapped her in," and she removed it for him. "Give this to her when you see her. As precious as her adoptive parents are to her she still comes from angels."

"Thank you, Sister," Dean said and left to head back to the motel.

Bobby Singer was cleanly shaven and dressed to impress when he walked into the SFPD. Entering the homicide unit he noticed that the floor was somber. An older, middle aged man stepped out from a corner office and noticing the stranger, walked up to Bobby and asked who he was.

"Name's Mike Kayser, FBI," he said flipping open his wallet to show his credentials.

"Must be important for you to come without calling first. I'm the Chief of this unit. What exactly is your business here?"

"I'm investigating the deaths that occurred at 1329 Prescott Street. Prudence Halliwell and one Doctor Griffiths."

"What does the FBI want with these homicides?"

"We believe that these murders were apart of a terrorism plot. Without giving away too many details, here's my superior's card. I need whatever evidence you have on this case and for your detectives to cease investigating. Here's the subpoena."

"I'll have Detective Cortez give you the evidence files," he said and walked over to the other man's desk. After a brief moment of dealing with the angry detective who shot Bobby a dirty look, the Chief left and Cortez walked over to Bobby with the evidence box.

"What exactly is the FBI's interest in this case?"

"That's none of your business son. This is officially an FBI matter."

Bobby met Dean back at the room, but Sam was still out. "Find anything out," Bobby asked.

"Just that the nun that found Paige thinks that her biological parents are some kind of angel. Also, they requested her name begin with the letter P."

"Just like Prue, Piper and Phoebe," Bobby said.

"I'm digging around one of Sam's databases and I found Paige's adoption papers but there's no mention of her mother being Patricia Halliwell."

"Have you tried searching by the Halliwell name and seeing if anything pops up?"

Dean typed in the name and clicked on the link that popped up. "What the hell is this," Dean shouted.

"Well, what is it boy?"

"Why is their a birth certificate with me listed as the father," Dean asked Bobby, his fists tightened.

Sam left and walked back to the motel which wasn't far from the manor. Night had fallen and he was interested by what he had learned.

When he walked through the door he saw Dean and Bobby yelling at each other before they realized he was in the room and they shut up. "What's going on," Sam asked.

"Just tell us what you found," Dean said sitting on one of the beds and cradling his head in his hands.

"I got lucky and overheard Piper calling her and her sisters the Charmed Ones. I looked it up and the phrase came up in a lot of wiccan lore sites that talk about the arrival of three sisters who would be the most powerful good witches the world has ever known. They descend from a witch who was burned at the stake; her name was Melinda Warren. I was able to follow Piper to their attic without being noticed. The family has been staying away from her, or rather she's been keeping away from them. She seems to be the most affected by her sister's death."

"What'd you find," Bobby asked.

"They're definitely witches. When Piper left I snuck in and found their Book of Shadows. It's like a how to for witches. Dean, you should have seen it! Hundreds of spells and potions for demons and other creatures; it makes Dad's journal look like a child's drawing. You can see," Sam said moving to his computer and pulling up a video screen. "I left some of our camera pieces in the manor so we can see if anything weird happens or if they do any magic," and images of the manor appeared on the screen in four different quadrants covering different angles.

"Whatever they find out we'll know too. What did you and Bobby find?"

Phoebe sat in front of the fireplace, quiet and pensive.

"Here, this should help. It's chamomile. I had three cups," Piper said and sat down next to Phoebe.

"Thanks. Doesn't seem real, does it?"

"No. What are we gonna do with all of her stuff? What are we going to do with her car," Piper said.

"I don't know. Sell it, I guess."

"Unless you want it," Piper said offering it to her.

"No," she said grabbing Piper's hands. "We're gonna get through this, you know. We just have to stick together," she finished telling Piper when Leo orbed in the room. "Well?"

"Well, they don't know anything about her, so she's definitely not a white-lighter."

"Then why can she orb, Leo," Phoebe demanded.

"They can't explain it," he told them and they stood up.

"Then how is it possible that they don't kn..." Phoebe stopped when Cole shimmered into the room.

"Whew. Sorry I took so long. I had to dodge a couple of bounty hunters."

"Did you find anything out," Leo asked the other man.

"You have no idea what I found out. Turns out the Source doesn't think she's a white-lighter at all," he began before sitting down. "In fact, he thinks she might be another... Charmed One. That's why he put Shax on it. He thought he ended the Power of Three. Now he's worried that this girl may somehow reconstitute it."

"No, but that's not possible. Is that possible," Phoebe asked Leo and Piper got up to leave the room. "Piper?"

Everyone followed the eldest remaining sister up the stairs to the attic.

"What's going on," Phoebe demanded.

"I'm going to ask Grams what's going on, actually…Your destiny still awaits, she says. There's a reason for everything, she says. So, it's time to summon her transparent butt back here and find out exactly what that reason is."

"Okay, but what should..."

"Here these words. Hear my cry spirit from the other side. Come to me, I summon thee. Cross now the Great Divide!"

"Piper? Why are you calling? P-Phoebe, wha-what's going on?"

"Grams, why does the Source think that the Charmed Ones can be reconstituted?"

"I do - I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know what, Grams? You were a lousy liar when you were alive, and now as a ghost, you're worse."

"If you know something, Grams, you have to tell us. We deserve to know," Phoebe said.

"I can't. I'm sworn to secrecy."

"By who," Phoebe demanded.

Piper had a look of astonishment on her face. "Mom?"