Prologue: The Price of Power

The attic of the Halliwell Manor had always held secrets. Tonight, it would hold its most dangerous one.

"Are you certain?" Penny Halliwell's voice cracked, her weathered hands cradling the infant—Heather—born mere hours after Prue. Candles surrounding the ritual circle trembled, their flames casting fractured shadows across the ancient pages of the Book of Shadows.

Patty Halliwell's eyes glistened with unshed tears, her post-pregnancy exhaustion etched into every line of her face. "We have no choice, Mother. The prophecy was unequivocal. If all three remain together, they'll be discovered. The Source will trace the connection—to the Feudal Era, to the Shikon Jewel. We cannot risk everything."

"Separate them?" Penny's fingers brushed Heather's delicate cheek. The baby slept, oblivious to the magical current crackling around her, to the moment that would reshape her entire existence. "But the Power of Three-"

"Will wait," Patty interrupted, her tone resolute. "The seers showed us. When the moment comes, when the battle transcends time itself, Heather will find her way home."

The spell they wove that night was more than words—it was a promise written in magic's most ancient language. As baby Heather dissolved into a swirl of ethereal blue orbs, neither witch could comprehend the true magnitude of their choice.

Or that it would take the shattering of their family to make her whole again.