CHRISTOPHER [much softer]. She’s right, Momma. You did tell us those things.

CORRINE. Yes, I did, but what I didn’t say was that my father had me written out of his will. When he dies, we get nothing as it stands now.

CATHY. What? Why?

Corrine moves to stage left and sits on an old trunk. The children turn and gather around her. She covers her face.

CHRISTOPHER [worried]. Momma?

CORRINE. Oh, this is so hard, so hard.

CATHY. What is? What the hell is going on?

Corrine utters a sob.

CHRISTOPHER. She’ll tell us later.

CATHY. Later? What later? I don’t want to stay up here. [Looking around.] It’s creepy. [She turns toward the door.]

CORRINE [looking up quickly]. You have to for a while, Cathy. I need time to charm my father into loving me the way he used to. It’s our only hope.

CATHY [coming back]. Why did he write you out of his will? Why didn’t we ever visit your parents? Not that we would have enjoyed it.

Corrine closes her eyes and sways. She looks as if she might faint.

CHRISTOPHER [protective]. Cathy, can’t you see how tired Momma is? We can . . .

CORRINE. No, I’ll have to tell you it all anyway. Cathy’s right.

She stands, walks up left, and then turns to them.

CORRINE. When I was only fourteen, a very handsome young man of seventeen came to live with us. His father was my grandfather, who had remarried when he was fifty-five. His new wife’s name was Alicia, and she was only sixteen.

CATHY. Sixteen!

CORRINE. Yes. Alicia gave birth to a boy they named Garland Christopher Foxworth. Three years later, my grandfather died. Alicia remarried, but her new husband had a fatal heart attack fourteen years later.

CATHY. She sounds deadly.

CORRINE [after a deep breath]. Her son was called Chris. He was a startlingly handsome young man, the most handsome young man I had ever seen, not that I had seen that many. My parents were quite strict about my dating. [Quickly.] But that’s not why I fell in love so fast.

CATHY. Fell in love with whom, this Chris Foxworth?

CORRINE. Yes, only he had changed his name to Dollanganger.

Cathy’s mouth falls open. She looks at Christopher, who just stares.

CATHY. You mean Daddy . . . Daddy was your uncle?

CORRINE. Technically, my half uncle, since my grandfather had a different wife. My father’s mother had died.

CHRISTOPHER [looking back toward the door]. So that’s why she asked if we had hidden afflictions.

CATHY. Huh?

CHRISTOPHER. She thinks we’re the product of some sort of incest. [To Corrine.] She compared us to Lucifer. Your parents think we’re the spawn of something evil, so we’re evil.

CATHY. Do they?

CORRINE. My father doesn’t even know you exist.

CHRISTOPHER. What?

CORRINE. That’s why we have to keep you hidden until I persuade him to put me in his will. He won’t if he knows I have children.