Tamsin recently married renowned composer Robin Featherstone. Robin is much older, but Tamsin doesn’t care—she’s in love. And she knows Robin loves her too, even if he is very close to another young woman—his assistant, Mia. Meanwhile, Robin’s ex-wife and grown children aren’t happy—they’re sure Tamsin is a gold-digger and Mia is an opportunist. Then, when Robin suddenly dies, the family’s worst fears are realized: Tamsin stands to inherit everything. But when the will is read, its contents are beyond shocking. 

With its peeling wallpaper and overgrown garden, I know our new home isn’t perfect. But my husband, Ben, promises it’s the fresh start we need. I remind myself that he’s an amazing father to our two children and that we have years of happy marriage behind us. He’s been distant for months, but I’m desperate to believe the move will bring us back together.

I tell myself that Max couldn’t kill anyone. He’s a family man now, different to who he was before. Even so, I should go to the police right away. But I can’t. Because if I do, I’m scared they’ll start to suspect me. How much do I really know about the girl in room 12? And if the truth comes out, how far will I go to protect my precious family?

Jake and I were childhood sweethearts. Strong, dependable, and with a smile that melts my heart, he is the perfect husband and father to our beautiful little daughter. We have our money troubles–but getting a lodger, Kara, calms the panic I feel about our bills. Jake is reluctant but what choice do we have?

From the moment I saw Ann, I knew she was perfect for me. Her beauty and her social connections would make my miserable life so much better. It didn’t matter that I didn’t love her. I would give her the lifestyle she craved, and she would give me the life I deserved. But soon my marriage vows were a noose around my neck. I longed to escape my beautiful, horrible wife. And then I saw her and I knew there was only one way out.

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…

When Jane is asked to pick up her friend’s daughter, Florrie, from school, she can’t imagine the horror that will unfold. Because someone pretending to be Jane has already collected Florrie. And now the little four-year-old is missing... Things don’t get any easier when Jane starts receiving anonymous letters that include intimate details about her life. As a psychologist and agony aunt, she's used to getting letters asking for advice, but these are different. Are they somehow connected to the missing child?

When I first walked into Jake and Megan’s immaculate home, I felt totally at ease. Sitting in the crisp white living room, they held hands and talked lovingly about their baby girl, Fern. As the weeks passed, I began to think I’d made a mistake in taking the job. Jake was overly friendly from the start, watching my every move and always offering to drop me home, even though it was out of his way. And Megan seemed to take pleasure in telling me off in front of her husband, blaming me for things I hadn’t done.

Leah and her three best friends get changed into their pyjamas, eat pizza, and argue about what film to watch. They laugh together, until the early hours. But the next morning, Leah blinks open her eyes and sees three empty sleeping bags. The other girls are gone. Twenty years later. In her small hometown, still-haunted Leah has never been able to shake off the rumours and whispers. How could she have slept through it all? She must know what happened.

When Ellie tells me she has a new boyfriend, I am absolutely thrilled and can’t wait to meet him. She finally seems so happy and in love. But there’s a catch. Ellie has never met him in person. In fact, he doesn’t even live in the same country. Our home is in England, but Daryl is in Los Angeles.

It’s the day I’ve been dreaming about my whole life. As I glide down the flower-strewn aisle overlooking the Greek orange groves, in my pearl-encrusted ivory gown, I finally see my fiancé Nik. We look like the perfect couple, but not all fairy tales have happy endings....

Our new home was meant to be a chance for us to start again; to make new friends and forget the past. And as I look around the barbeque we’ve thrown for our neighbors, I dare to dream that things will be all right. I watch my husband joking as he flips burgers and my daughter turning cartwheels on our sun-bleached lawn. And then my gaze falls on my son, Jacob, and his new girlfriend, Rose, in her light blue jeans and her green crop top. There is a worried expression clouding her beautiful eyes.... The next day I get a call from Rose’s mother that chills me to the bone.

This holiday is the first time my husband Jeff and I have been on our own in years, and I want it to be a fresh start. We can walk along the beach, eat ice cream in the bright Spanish sun, and fall in love again.

My husband is a doctor. He’s smart and charming, and everybody trusts him. Except me. On the surface, it looks like I have it all–the perfect marriage, the perfect husband, the perfect life. But it’s far from the truth. Doctor Drew Devlin is not the respectable figure he makes out to be. The reason we moved to this beautiful, old property with a gorgeous view of the sea was because we needed to put our past behind us. It should’ve been a fresh start for us both.

I could tell when my son started hiding things from me. He used to walk to school with a mischievous grin on his beautiful face. Now he avoids eye contact and keeps his head down. Since I discovered he’s being bullied by a classmate, I’ve spent every day worrying, my stomach churning with anxiety from the moment he leaves the house to the second he walks back through the door. Everyone keeps telling me I’m overreacting, but I won’t risk my child’s safety. My husband and I try to talk to the other boy’s parents, but it only makes things worse. Then our precious child is hurt. Enough is enough.