On the hottest day of the summer, we wait for Molly on the riverbank, desperate to slip into the cool water. But as the sun starts to fade, it’s clear she isn’t coming. We’ll never see our friend again....

Melody gazes across the rippling lake to the trees on the shore, waiting for her fiancé Evan to arrive so their family holiday can begin. Here in this cabin in a small Canadian island town, there’s so much space for their son to play. It’s going to be perfect–just like the first time Melody visited as a child. But then, a call from Evan shatters her world.

The day I was told I’d never be able to have a child, my world came crashing down. My husband says he still loves me, but I lie awake at night, wishing we could have a family. One morning, my husband’s side of the bed is cold and empty. I hear a noise and head downstairs. In the middle of the rug in my living room is a wooden drawer. Swaddled inside, with perfect rosy cheeks and beautiful round blue eyes, a baby gazes up at me.

Thirty years ago, Georgia Smith was my best friend. Then one terrible day, everything changed. I’ll never forget her beautiful face, twisted with hate, the last time I saw her. But I never thought I’d have to see it again. Georgia is back. She’s my daughter’s new favourite teacher. And now my baby girl is gone...

I gaze across the candlelit table into the eyes of the man I love. It’s our anniversary dinner, a celebration of our marriage, of how far we’ve come. But within hours our romantic date has ended in murder… When I wake in a hospital bed, blinking under the blinding white lights, I hear someone saying there has been an accident. My heart misses a beat when I recognize my husband’s voice. He says I was driving the car. He says I’ve killed someone.

I was so nervous about someone new joining our house share. After everything that happened with my parents, my friends are like my family. Our imperfect, but well-loved house is the only place where I can be myself. But when Poppy knocks on our door, blonde hair, wide eyes, and a friendly smile, we all agree she’s a perfect fit. I just wish I could shake the feeling that I’ve seen her before…

Ethan gently squeezes my hand as he slides the golden ring onto my finger. But I know we aren’t worthy of happiness. As I look down at my wedding ring, in a blistering flash, I suddenly remember another piece of that pitch-black, rainy night… but I try to focus on Ethan’s gorgeous blue eyes. I know exactly what he’s thinking. We can never tell. All our family, friends and loved ones smile as they watch Ethan and I promise to be together until death us do part. But only we know what that really means…Because we have already killed someone.

After five years away from her hometown of Fawn Lake, Detective Freya Sinclair isn’t expecting a warm welcome from the people she’s sworn to protect. She became a detective to bring serial killers like her parents to justice, but the tight-knit North Carolinian community can’t see past her twisted roots. Minutes after stepping foot back home, the body of a dark-haired young girl is pulled from the river and Freya races to the scene.

It feels like all the air has been knocked out of me. My best friend is dead, killed at her own daughter’s birthday party. All I want to do is run into my husband’s loving arms. But he’s in handcuffs, covered in her blood. His voice quivers, almost sobbing as officers put him in the police car. ‘You don’t think I did this, do you? I was trying to save her.’ At first, I’m sure he couldn’t have done it. The man I love wouldn’t hurt anyone. But as I try to prove that he didn’t murder Lucy, secrets begin unravelling…

Sharon Stevenson is a forensic psychiatrist. Her job is to decide whether a patient is of sound enough mind to stand trial, not whether they did or didn’t commit a crime. But Sharon is also a mother grieving the disappearance of her seventeen-year-old daughter, Maddie, who has never been found. And what if the man sitting before her, who has been charged with the murders of several women, also claimed the life of her sweet girl? It’s time to find out the truth.

Every Monday, I meet my writing group in a warm, lively bar to drink a glass of wine or two and share our work. It’s the highlight of my week. I don’t go out much, otherwise. For the last ten years, every time I’ve relaxed, the messages have started again. The black hearts. They’re a warning to remember, as if I could ever forget. Whoever sent them wants to hurt me. They’ve lost me jobs and boyfriends. Is it any wonder I like to hide in fiction?

Anne gets exactly the welcome to the neighborhood she expects: a basket of homemade cupcakes delivered by the woman next door and her best friend. One wears a curious smile while the other studies her every move. When Talia and Tabitha leave, Anne throws the treats in the trash. She knows what to expect from the new neighbors. Talia with her perfect husband and pale-peach sweater sets, and Tabitha who reigns as queen in the close-knit community. That’s why she chose this house.

Twenty years ago Ed Finch – America’s most notorious serial killer – used the Bay Area as his hunting ground. Now, his daughter Margot is a homicide detective with the San Francisco Police Department who has spent her whole life trying to forget who she is. But her daddy won’t let her forget. When Margot receives a phone call from his lawyer, she learns that Ed is back – transferred to death row at San Quentin. And her father has a message for her: he’s willing to disclose some long-held secrets. But there’s a catch. She has to visit him.

I stare at the messages between my husband Rob and another woman, their plans to run away together bringing tears to my eyes as I stand, trembling, in our luxurious apartment. I thought I had the perfect marriage. As our three beautiful children sleep soundly in the next room, I think about our family holidays, our romantic date nights, and the day Rob proposed to me. In the last few months, I haven’t complained about his late-night meetings or got jealous about his weekends away. I trusted my husband. But now I’m questioning everything.

Last night, we celebrated our anniversary. Over candlelight, we talked about the children, our work, and I was so happy, and felt so loved. But the next morning, when I check my phone, there is a message. From a friend. And a string of photos appear of my husband, Will, with another woman: walking along the street holding hands. Going into fancy hotels. Standing at a window, his arms around her, her head on his shoulder…