All marriages have their challenges, right? But as I watch my husband being put into the back of a cop car, I find myself wondering if I ever knew him at all. Could handsome, easygoing Theo really have killed a girl on our block? Could I have got the sweet, loving father, who makes up lullabies to sing my baby to sleep, so wrong?

As he packs my things, the nurses tell me Freddie hasn’t left my bedside since the accident I was in days ago. They tell me I’m lucky. We seem like the perfect couple, and together we’ll figure out what happened. So I go home to a beautiful house with a fancy marble kitchen and manicured garden that is supposedly ours. But deep down I know something isn’t right. Even though my memories are gone, this doesn’t feel like my life.

I’ve never met my father. It was always just me and Mom, so when she died, I was completely alone. But today, years since I first mailed my DNA to Family Ties, I finally have a match. They’ve found my biological father.

For myself and Lauren, my 10-year-old daughter No 3 Beech Close was to be our refuge after two years of hell nursing my sick mother. In need of a fresh start and wanting to distance ourselves from the bad memories of my mother’s house we moved to Beech Close, a small cul-de-sac of six houses situated around a picture-perfect green. It seemed perfect but I had underestimated the secrets that this tightknit community shared. Within hours of moving in my next-door neighbour Valerie made it abundantly clear we were not welcome.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh, leafy air, Abigail promises herself: Today she is going to make her parents accept her future husband Pete’s family. She’s planned three days away from it all in a beautiful, forested nature reserve. Out here, with almost no one else around, their families will have nowhere to run. They might have clashed from the moment they met—with their stark differences in backgrounds and personalities—but now, Abigail thinks, they will have to get along.

I wake on the sofa, my head throbbing. Why did I fall asleep here? In the darkness, I make my way to my bedroom. I know immediately something is wrong. The sheets I tucked in so carefully this morning are rumpled, disturbed. I turn on the lights. And then I scream. There’s a body in my bed. And I know this man: We went on two dates together. Who could have killed him? And how did he get into this house? Only two people have a key: me and my ex-husband, Matthew. I cast my mind desperately back to last night, to the last few painful months.

Long blonde hair. Sparkling dark eyes. Perfect pearly white teeth. I’ve never met her before, but I know exactly who she is as I spot her through the crowds of the terminal. Because our new guest is the spitting image of the daughter we lost. And that’s exactly why I chose her.

When I left my parents’ home in Kentucky, I never thought I’d see my sister again. For years, we kept a terrible secret, and eventually it tore us apart. But when I get the call to say that my sister has been killed and my teenage niece Hannah is coming to live with us, I leave the past behind. Hannah is family, and I need to keep her safe. I know what could happen to her if I don’t. When my niece arrives, she bonds with my daughter Cassie instantly. But then I hear a scream from the girls’ bedroom. And in the garden, someone has lit a fire. It’s a warning.

Jay and I have only known each other a short while, but whenever I gaze into his gorgeous brown eyes I know he’s the one. His little house by the deep forest’s edge is perfect for the two of us—no internet, no phone signal, and no neighbors. I’m about as far from my past as I could be. Warm in Jay’s arms, I can persuade myself it’s ok that he disappears for hours when he thinks I’m asleep at night, returning the next morning, glittery eyed and tense. I won’t question him, I can’t challenge him. I need our relationship to work. Because I have secrets too.

Fran made the biggest mistake of her life when she had an affair with Ben. Both their families live in the small, tight-knit town of Oakheart, and their daughters are the best of friends. The relationship is over, but her guilt haunts her every waking moment. She tries to push it down, but it's always there, simmering just beneath the surface. Fran has managed to keep the truth hidden from her husband… so far. But the cracks in their marriage are starting to show.

When I married Bill, he was still reeling from the loss of his first wife. After our wedding, back in his dusty, quiet house, I hugged his daughters Lucy and Sara close and swore I would help heal this grieving family. But sweet, troubled Lucy is still struggling. I was so worried about her, but now I think I’ve found the perfect therapist. He says he can unlock her memories and reveal what’s really causing her anxiety. Sitting in his sunlit waiting room, I allow myself to hope. But then Lucy comes running out of the room, her eyes wild. She says she saw her mother die.

"There’s someone I want you to meet," Belle says, as a man draws up to her side. He’s tall with dark hair and stubble on his square jaw. He’s not exactly smiling, but the corner of his mouth curls upwards as he slides his hand around my daughter’s waist. 

This is my first job as a housekeeper, but Evan Warner doesn’t need to know that. It’s the first of many lies I’ll tell him. He just lost his wife, Lola, and now he and his young daughter Jessica are adrift. But no amount of cleaning will rid this house of the secrets that have seeped into the cracks. I never forgave Lola for what she did to me. But I can’t let Evan get away with her murder.

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…

Everything my husband and I have always dreamt of has finally come true. Our new home with its open-plan kitchen and marble countertops couldn’t be further from the small, damp flat where we lived only months ago. I’d hoped this would be our fresh start, an escape from my past, but the handwritten note that arrived on our doorstep makes my blood run cold – you don’t deserve this life.