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.

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…

I thought handsome, charming Blake would be the perfect fit for my quiet and sweet-natured friend Melanie. Widowed far too young, she deserved a second chance at love. So, when he proposed so soon after I set them up on a date, I convinced myself that the timing was just right. But I should have stopped it. I tried to ignore Blake’s controlling behavior. It started small; telling her not to have a glass of champagne to celebrate their engagement, putting cameras up around her house for “safety”. But Mel seemed so happy and in love, I couldn’t bring myself to share my creeping doubts.

One thing about me: I HATE flying. It’s my worst nightmare. That’s why I book seat 2A every time I fly. Since my big win, I've been booking seats 2B and 2C as well. They’re my comfort seats, they cushion the claustrophobia, and at last I can afford them. I am now determined to live the life of luxury. I deserve it, after all. How to Live Like a Millionaire is the book I’m reading on this flight. When it lands on the floor, a handsome guy hands it back to me. I know he clocks the title, because he’s totally charming and talks to me as if I’m one of the Marbella Millionaire set.

My hand trembles as I stare at the anonymous text. On this sunny Saturday morning, our twin ten-year-old boys were playing in the park just down our tree-lined street. But only one of them has come home… and it’s all my husband’s fault. I race to Leo’s study and demand answers. As his face turns white, I know: one of his affairs has turned deadly. I always smell the unfamiliar perfume on his shirt. I try to pretend we are a happy family, for the sake of the children… but now, my child is in terrible danger.

Holly is getting married, but not before a celebration weekend with her closest friends. After a night of arguments, a body is found floating in the swimming pool of their secluded cottage. Holly must face up to the truth—one of her bridesmaids is a killer, but which one?

I gaze at my husband’s once handsome face, so still and pale in the hospital bed. The doctors say I should keep talking. He might be able to hear me even after the terrible accident that left him fighting for his life. But all I have to whisper to my husband is this: "I know what you did."

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…

I can’t trust anything Cain says. Desperate for answers, I agree to meet Charlotte in secret. But it’s Charlotte who is full of questions: about our lives, our relationship. It’s only when she lets slip the name of the road I used to live on, that I realize how much she knows about me, too. Cold fear floods through my body. My husband may not have told the truth, but his lies are nothing compared to mine. If Charlotte knows my darkest secret, my whole life could fall apart. How far will I have to go to keep the truth hidden?

Beth has the perfect life. She has constructed it carefully over the last eighteen years. But one night she makes a choice that risks everything. When Kat sees an article about that night online, buried memories begin to surface. She and Beth were friends once. Things ended badly then, but now she has a chance to make things right. Kat introduces herself to Beth. Not as her old friend, but as a stranger. Beth has no idea Kat isn’t who she says she is. But then neither is Beth.

From the moment I met Nathan, a widower with two small children, I knew I would do anything for him. Sam and Sienna were both desperate for a mother and I knew I was perfect for them. I would raise them as my own, love them like my own. I would die for them. So when a missing teenager is found lying on the side of the road, my first through is for my precious kids. Are they home? Are they safe?

I’ve fallen in love with a man called Sam. And he’s perfect, just perfect. It’s a whirlwind romance. And when our dream home falls through just before our wedding, we decide to move in with his parents. He says his mother, Evelyn, is the sweetest person. But I’m not so sure. She’s obsessively protective over Sam. She wants to know where he is all the time. She wakes us up in the morning, bustling into our room like he’s a small child, not a grown man. She doesn’t want me to be alone with him.

Today–with just one month until Tom is to be declared legally dead–Rachel receives a note in handwriting she recognizes with dread: My darling, I’ve missed you so much. Give me a chance to explain. I’m coming home. The husband she’d lost is alive. And so are all his secrets....

When I accepted a job working as a nanny for David and Julie and their young children, I was excited to be making my own way in the world. I bonded with baby Chloe instantly and would have done anything for her. She had David's thick, dark hair and smiling eyes. I fell in love with her and was excited for my future. But when a terrible mistake led to Chloe disappearing, I was instantly blamed. With no evidence, I was let go and I returned home to rebuild my life. Twenty years later and I am still haunted by what happened.

I haven’t lived here long. The house is small and a little run-down, but each piece of faded floral wallpaper I peel away feels like unwrapping the second chance I never thought I’d get. I’m finally free to wear what I want, and I don’t flinch when I accidently burn dinner. My new home is warm, and the kids are safe inside. Anywhere would feel idyllic after the nightmare marriage I’ve just escaped.