Disclaimer: I do not own the Dollanganger Saga.

A/N: Hi! I know it's been forever since I updated this story, but I've been going through all my stories lately and I really would like to continue with this one. I think it has such potential, and when I first wrote it, I was so into the series and so into the characters!

This chapter is short and my updates may not be regular, but here we are. I hope you like it! Please review and let me know what you think of the story. I would love to hear everyone's thoughts and opinions on Corrine and any possible reconciliation with her children.

Momma's Baby

Chapter 3

Bart didn't come home that night. At eight thirty, he had phoned the house and told Corrine about some kind of late business deal the firm was working on. He needed to "stay at the office" to finish all the reports; he had to "take one for the team" and get it all done.

Corrine knew the truth, though. It was now six in the morning, and she knew that he was probably still sleeping in Cathy's bed – in her daughter's bed. He would probably wake up to play with Cathy's baby and share some short, awkward exchanges with Carrie before sneaking out the back and coming back to Foxworth Hall, yawning about how hard and difficult his job was.

"Cheating asshole," Corrine muttered under her breath, taking off her sleep mask and running a hand through her hair. She didn't normally swear (her mother had told her that women who swore had a special place in hell), but this wasn't a normal occasion.

Indeed, her entire life had blown up over the past eighteen hours. Carrie came up to her on the street, Corrine went over to their house, Bart was having an affair with Cathy – everything that could possibly go wrong did. After Corrine made her decision and decided to run with the money, she had devoted her life to keeping up with the appearance that she so desperately had fought to create. She couldn't take back what she did and she couldn't alleviate the damage done, but she could prevent anything else happening; she could prevent making it even worse.

But what if she didn't want to? Sitting there in her bed, lost in a swath of ruffled, cream silk sheets, Corrine thought about it. Visions of her gauntly babies haunted her dreams each and every night, and in the very center of her aching, breaking heart was that tempting desire to reach out to them and to hold them once more. She'd plotted a thousand schemes of running into Cathy after one of her shows or showing up at Christopher's hospital, pulling them aside and begging for them to let her explain. She'd imagined their reactions and anticipated their hurt, but most of all, she yearned for their approval and wished for their forgiveness.

Out in the streets of Charlottesville, Carrie had been receptive – Carrie had been willing to cross that invisible border and make contact. That was surprising since Carrie hadn't been that old when they escaped and since Carrie could barely even remember her mother, but at the same time, that might have been exactly why.

Not really knowing what she was doing, Corrine reached down into her bra and pulled out that piece of paper, her fingers trembling as she unfolded it and stared down at the phone number. Her heart racing, she reached over to the nightstand and pulled out the phone, holding the receiver to her right ear.

Very carefully, she pressed the buttons one-by-one until she heard a ring, her heartbeat audible as she sat there and waited.