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.

My mother is obsessed with every detail of my wedding–controlling my dress, my ring, my happiness. But when the day finally comes, will she really let me go?

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…

It’s so kind of our neighbours to throw this party welcoming us to our new home. My husband and I finally moved to the right place. A happy, safe street where nobody knows about my mistakes. But I soon learn their smiling faces hide even deadlier secrets… As I take in the little plates of sandwiches arranged over checked tablecloths, the lavish cocktails, and children playing, I finally feel happy in my new home with Owen. I love hearing the gossip from the local families; the whispers about which wives I should avoid, and which husbands sneak out at night.

A bright and welcoming haven, the playgroup sits at the heart of the town, tucked away inside a red-brick building. The Nest should have been the safest place for my rosy-cheeked, pink-obsessed daughter, Florence. Run by mothers like me, I trusted my newfound friends–Alice, Beth and Georgie–to take care of my child. But now my choice has left Florence fighting for her life.

1897. Rosamund bows her head and steps slowly down the aisle. The satin of her gown whispers against the stone floor and a single tear falls into the bunch of yellow roses twisted in her trembling hands. Despite rumors of his cruelty, Rosamund has no choice but to become this man’s second wife. After her wedding, Rosamund finds herself trapped in Sir Lucien Fitznorton’s lonely country estate. As she wanders the chilly halls, made shadowy by drapes of heavy velvet, she longs for the lost comforts of her childhood home, where she was the beloved only daughter to a doting father.

England, 1908: Alice Dalton never intended to rebel against her aristocratic parents. But after her father’s failed attempt to arrange a marriage for her with Edmund Cutler, son of a wealthy stockbroker, she flees the family home humiliated – and determined to make a life for herself as an independent woman, however hard that might be. When a chance opportunity leads to her taking a position as a stained-glass artist’s apprentice, Alice is stunned when she meets the man she’ll be working for: the hateful Edmund Cutler.

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.

No matter what life throws at me, I have always been able to depend on my best friend Rachel. In nineteen years of friendship, we’ve never argued or fallen out. So, I’m wracked by guilt over my decision to keep her daughter Chloe’s pregnancy a secret. I don’t want to break Chloe’s trust but, if I don’t say anything, it could destroy my relationship with Rachel. I hoped Chloe would find the confidence to tell her mom, but days have passed, and the guilt is eating me alive. As much as I want to support Chloe, I don’t know how much longer l can lie to my best friend.

Working in a museum under a false identity is Brigitte’s only hope. Until she meets Isabelle Valette, who confides in hushed tones that she is part of the Resistance. And when her new friend tells her of a train leaving Paris that can take children to safety, Brigitte knows her daughter must be on it, even if it breaks her heart. But getting Sophie onto the train is dangerous. If they are caught smuggling a Jewish child out of Paris, they will be killed. And with the enemy closing in, can Brigitte get her beloved daughter to safety before it is too late?

1945. The tiny bundle in her arms barely stirs as she hurries out into the dark street. Remembering Villa Teresa, a thousand miles away in sun-soaked Italy, Betty thinks of the letter she had to write to stop the bombing and save Gianni. Instead, it cost her everything, and she will never see her beloved again. Letting her little baby go will tear her apart, but she knows it is the only way to keep her child safe.

‘She’s dead, Emily. She’s dead.’ The phone falls from my hand. I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach. This isn’t possible – my mother couldn’t have been in an accident at the cliffs. She cannot be dead. Because if she is, then it might be all my fault… This first trip back home was supposed to be a fresh start for our family. Full of cocktails on the terrace and sunny days at the beach. It was time to forget all the secrets that had torn us apart.

Hours later, the man’s cold body lies in the city mortuary, alongside the woman he couldn’t save. And his sister, unconventional nurse Gemma Tate, tracks down troubled police inspector Sebastian Bell to unravel the truth. Sebastian has enough pressure to solve the murder of an aristocratic heiress without Gemma meddling in his case. But the cryptic sentences she brings him from her brother’s notebook could be a crucial lead. If only they knew what “milky way” meant.

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 open the front door and there’s Amy, smiling sweetly and ready to help. She’s been a lifesaver since Jon and I moved here–from walking the dog to picking up my little son Teddy from nursery last minute. I’m so lucky we met in the playground the first day we arrived. Amy is more than just a good friend. My only friend, really. Whenever Amy and Jon exchange glances I’m sure it seems like they’ve met before, even though Jon swears they haven’t. But then again Jon recognises lots of people from his childhood round here without truly knowing them.