Fiona Fisher lives a quiet and contented existence. A former nurse who married Jason, the doctor of her dreams, she is now a mother to his two daughters and living in the sort of cosy village home she’d always wished for.

My baby is missing. Everyone thinks it’s my fault. I’m so scared carrying my delicate newborn, Lola, home from the hospital. It wasn’t an easy birth and she is so small. Seeing her gorgeous little face look up at me I swear I’ll never let anyone hurt her. But maybe I should have been protecting her from myself…

Mandy Cramer has lived her entire life in a small lakeside town that is divided in two distinct groups: the working class, who live downtown, and the wealthy members of the ultra-exclusive Hawthorne Bluff Club. Details of the clubs one-hundred year history are scant, as the members are notoriously tight-lipped and the gates remain closed to outsiders. When Mandy accepts a position as a nanny for the club president's children, she discovers more secrets than she ever bargained for.

‘Just rest, Frankie. I’ll take care of you.’ I feel my baby kick as my nanny fluffs my pillows and lays me down. She gives me a soothing smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She knows I’m afraid of her… When I shake our nanny Jasmine’s hand for the first time and catch her perfect smile, I can’t ignore the feeling that we’ve met before. But I tell myself it’s nothing. I desperately need help around the house. Since I got pregnant, I burst into tears over the smallest things and my mind is a haze. I can barely look after my toddler Olivia. Jasmine is a godsend–isn’t she?

I take a sip of coffee as I plan my day. My surgeon husband, Cole, slept at work last night, so I had to get the kids ready on my own, again. I can’t complain, though, I’ve loved him ever since we met, long before he became a famous surgeon and the papers started calling him the pride of the hospital. Our latest family photo hangs on the kitchen wall and I remember that day so clearly. Cole screamed at me over nothing, then apologised saying he was stressed at work. My heart pounded with fear, but I plastered a smile on my face for the sake of my children.

An anonymous call raises the alarm. Two bodies found as a result of a home invasion. Then the police see the knives. One in his hand. One in hers. Joe and Beth appeared to have the perfect relationship. But there are two sides to every story. His truth. Her truth. And the actual truth. In this web of lies, only one person can be telling the truth, can’t they?

On the Yorkshire moors, celebrated author Faye Mathis is coming to terms with her early-onset dementia. She has begun writing her memoir, committing her past to paper before her memory betrays her. But her family history is full of gaps, bloodlines cut short, family ties all ending in knots. When a picture of Faye – dirty and dishevelled, stumbling alone on the moors – goes viral, her life is thrown into chaos. Faye is convinced she is not that person in the photograph. But how can she be sure?

Nic Carraway wants to be a writer. Newly graduated, she scores a cheap summer lease on a small boat house in Long Island, surrounded by the super-rich. Across the water, her charming cousin Danny and his type-A wife, Tomasina. Next door, an influencer who throws extravagant parties populated by the world's A-list, operating under the handle @Gatsby. But no one can be careless like the rich. They are used to doing whatever they want, their secrets kept and their messes swept away.

It’s been eleven years since high-powered attorney Sarah Morgan defended her husband, Adam, against the charge of murdering his mistress. Sarah has long since moved on, starting a family with her new husband, Bob Miller, and changing careers. Her life is back to being exactly how she always wanted … or is it?

Dr. Margaret Richter has it all. She’s rich, thanks to her best-selling self-help books. She has a beautiful home in Cape Cod overlooking the beach. And she has a monthly book club that everyone is dying to get invited to. Literally. Because behind the crystal wine glasses, the fine linens and the catered hors d'oeuvres lies a tangled web of secrets, of deceit, of murder. No member of the book club is innocent—and many are guilty. And the person with the most to hide is Margaret Richter herself.