Just six hours ago, Alex and I were married. It was a beautiful wedding by the sea, on the beach we’ve always loved. Our guests crowded outside our beach hut to raise a toast before our first midnight swim together as man and wife. And then, suddenly, he was gone, drowning in the water that meant so much to us.

When Maggie sees the beautiful Venetian blinds moving in the Caldwells' front window, she freezes. Her favorite neighbors Cady and Josh are away, so who is in their house? The pretty young woman who answers the door tells a convincing story. She's Sarah. The house-sitter. Just here for a month. An old friend of Cady's who needed a place to stay. She's pleasant and warm, and Maggie wanders back to her house thinking she might have made a new friend. Yet she can't help but wonder why Cady never mentioned Sarah.

When the gold-rimmed invitations arrive through the doors of best friends Simone, Hannah and Vicky they're instantly taken aback. Their ex-friend Jodie is inviting them to a lavish Mediterranean villa to celebrate her birthday. They haven't spoken in years since she betrayed them in the worst way. So how did they make the guest list? They all have their reasons for saying yes. Stay-at-home mum Simone had her dream job snatched away. Hannah lost the love of her life. Café-owner Vicky wants the chance to help a wronged friend. Is the reunion a chance to confront Jodie and the past?

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.

Moving to this village was supposed to be a fresh start for me and my 13-year-old son, Harry. After the tragic death of my husband, it was a chance to leave everything bad behind and make better memories at Primrose Cottage, the postcard-perfect house with honeysuckle around the door. However, things haven’t exactly been easy since we arrived, and after what we’ve been though, I’m scared of letting anyone new into our lives. But when one of the local dads asks Harry to join the weekend sports club, I find myself saying yes. 

Rina Kent was the new hot shot psychiatrist at Holy Saints ward. She also recently married the love of her life, who's also a doctor at the same hospital. Rina felt on top of the world, until one of her patients committed suicide. Rina knows it was her fault. A year later, her marriage has already gone down in flames. All she has left is her patients, but she's lost her confidence to help them.

Returning early from a disastrous date night with my husband, I know something is wrong the moment the wheels crunch the gravel drive of our home. Inside, the TV is on and a half-eaten meal waits on the table. My heart stops when I find our little girl is alone in the house and our babysitter, Sasha, is missing....

When a car carrying five teenagers home from a party crashes into a brick wall, the consequences are devastating - not just for the young people directly involved, but also for their families, their friends and the wider community. By 2:30 a.m. the whereabouts of most of the kids were known. Most - but not all. Because, for a small handful of parents, there was no response to their frantic calls and messages.

Moving to Prospect Close has been everything I’d hoped for. In the city, Oliver and I barely saw each other, irritable at home and rushing around after the kids. But here, the neighbors have been so friendly and welcoming, and we’re now at barbeques and playdates every weekend, all together, as a family. It’s the type of life I always dreamed of. One that’s a million miles from...before. Not that Oliver would know anything about that.

I am cooking spaghetti, his favourite, while he plays in the garden. But when I look up, he’s gone. I call the police, my hands shaking so much that I hit the wrong digits twice. "My son is missing." When the police turn up, I’m trapped in the web of my lies. I have hidden the truth from eight-year-old Riley, my little boy who loves climbing trees and always has scraped knees. I have hidden my secret from everyone.