Sam Vickery

All I’ve ever wanted is to be a mother. And as soon as I looked into the beautiful, bright blue eyes of this baby tucked in her blanket, my world felt complete. Stepping into the cold air outside of the hospital doors, a shiver runs through me. I know my life will never be the same again.

My husband’s dead. They say my best friend did it. I can’t believe it. Not Lisa. There’s no way she could have done something so terrible....

When a little boy I don’t recognize knocks at my door, without a parent in sight, I’m shocked. He trembles with nerves, and I tell him I can help find his mother. But I’m not prepared for what he says next. I’m left frozen, heart pounding in my chest....

I walk slowly to the kitchen counter, staring out the window as Ceci rocks back and forth on the swing. My beautiful darling girl has been through so...

As soon as we sat on the ride I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t relax. I couldn’t hear the theme park music, the giggles of my two...

Watching my beautiful curly-haired baby Ava play in the sand, I can’t believe how much joy she’s brought me. When she goes missing, it’s the worst thing that could happen… but perhaps the shared pain of losing her will bring my ex-husband and me back together?

Annie’s life looks perfect on the surface. Peaceful mornings in her beautiful tumbledown cottage, working from home while looking out over the daisies in the bottom of the garden. But there’s a reason Annie never ventures into town, a secret she’s hiding about where she’s from.

Madeline's six-year-old daughter Tilly collapses one Sunday night. The doctors at the hospital say that Tilly is fine. Madeline’s ex-husband Adam and her best friend Laura think Madeline is being overprotective. But Madeline is sure something is seriously wrong with Tilly....

It’s a miracle when Katherine’s baby boy is born healthy. But his twin sister doesn’t survive, and when Katherine is told she can’t have any more children, the loss is almost too much for her to bear....

Un día, un niño pequeño, al que no reconozco y a quien no acompaña ningún adulto, llama a mi puerta. —Mamá me ha dicho que te llame abuela. No puede ser verdad. El niño de rizos oscuros que me mira desde abajo no tendrá más de cinco años… y mi hija murió hace quince. ¿O no?