Synopsis

From New York Times bestselling author J.T. Ellison comes a suspenseful domestic thriller about identity, revenge, and the dangerous secrets kept hidden from the ones we love most.

It’s the holidays, and photographer Brooklyn Locke is bound for Italy with her husband, Trey, and their two children. But when Trey vanishes from the airport, missing their connecting flight, their impromptu vacation—and life as she knows it—begins to unravel.

Desperate to find her husband, Brooklyn accepts help from a stranger on the same flight, Eden Barrow. But Eden soon makes a shocking claim. She is the sister of Trey’s first wife, and ten years ago he was the main suspect in her murder.

Struggling to comprehend these accusations, fate delivers one more blow: a violent accident that leaves Brooklyn fighting for her life. With nowhere else to turn, Brooklyn leans on Eden for support. But each kindness feels too rehearsed, feeding her doubts about Eden’s motives and Trey’s true past.

Brooklyn has her own dark history she’d rather forget and confronts an unsettling possibility. Her life is not what it seems, and the truth is a trap—laid by someone waiting for the perfect time to strike.

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This book releases on August 25, 2026. Preorder it today.

Enter the Goodreads Giveaway, ends August 24th.

Review

Everything is not as it seems, and secrets abound in this new thriller.

This thriller is told from multiple points of view and time periods, which adds depth and intrigue to the storyline. Brooklyn and her family are on a last minute trip, but everything goes awry from the start. Her husband disappears, and the race is on to figure out where he went, what is going on with random messages that disappear from her phone, and an accident that leaves her in limbo.

I will state that I had a bad feeling about one of the characters, but nothing I could put my finger on. It isn’t until close to the end when the truth comes out and confirms my suspicions. I should have picked up on another clue about a character, but missed that connection.

I wasn’t sure who to believe, what was fact vs fiction, and was Trey really a bad guy? I was blown away by the amount of deception from multiple characters. It was hard to believe or trust anyone. And their son, Four? He was just a little to wise for his age. But he and his sister, Neve, added to the story. Can’t say how, that might give away some of the plot!

I have enjoyed many books by this author, and this one is no different. It is perfect for those who like psychological thrillers, and uncovering puzzles.

We give the book 5 paws up.

Excerpt

Barreling through Hartsfield, we have a tiny bit of luck: The trip from A terminal to E takes only three minutes, and the incoming gate is close to the escalator.

We exit into Atlanta’s international terminal, which is an entirely new world, really, with people from all over. The clothes, the accents, the smells, everything is different. Even rushing, I can feel the shift. I love it. I love the sense of adventure this brings. I miss my old life sometimes—the ability to move at a moment’s notice, to see new cultures, skylines, vistas. I especially love flying itself, being in the sky above everyone, jetting in and out of the clouds. It reminds me that we are very small, and the world is very big, and the commonalities that we share supersede our differences.

The departure gate to Milan Malpensa is halfway down the long corridor. Thankfully, they are not boarding yet, though the preboards are being lined up. A shudder of relief passes through my body.

“Made it! Good job, babies! I think we even have time for a potty break. Who needs to go?” The kids, completely entranced by the new experience they’re having, awed by the chaos of the international terminal, both shake their heads. “Okay. We’ll have plenty of time on the flight. Trey? You need to take a break?”

He isn’t paying attention to me. He’s looking over me, away from the bathrooms, toward the queuing line of people. The line of his shoulders, the cock of his head, are both tight. He looks like he’s about to explode. Something is really wrong.

“Babe? Are you okay?”

He drags his attention to me. There’s something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was fear.

“What did you say?”

“I said, is everything okay? Bathroom? Do you need to go before we board?”

“Brooklyn, seriously, stop nagging me. I’m fine.”

He turns away again. And he bitched at me about the last-minute changes. That’s pretty rich, considering.

I bite my lip and busy myself with checking that our snacks are intact after the run to the gate, answering Four’s rapid-fire questions about the size of the plane—a 777, which is a monster—smoothing Neve’s hair. I was so hoping this was going to be easy, but we’ve been in a rush since Trey sprang this whole trip on me yesterday. Maybe when we get into our seats on the plane, I’ll feel less unsettled. I’m glad I haven’t mentioned the email. He’s really going to take that well. Not.

Trey touches my shoulder. “I . . . changed my mind. I do need to use the restroom.”

“Okay. But take this.” I hand him his passport. “Hurry, though. They’re going to let us board any second. Gosh, we really lucked out.”

“Yes. So lucky.” He pockets his passport and leans in, kisses me on the forehead, then cups my chin in his hand. His eyes, the clear whiskey brown so unique, meet mine for a brief marital moment—an apology for the sharp words earlier. I nod, and he smiles. “Back in a minute, babe. I’ll tell you everything later, okay?”

The aggression is gone. My soft, sweet husband has reappeared, and I relax for the first time in hours, blowing out a nice deep breath. Allow the excitement to come back. Yes, it’s been a rough morning, but we’re going to Italy—three weeks in one of my favorite places, with my beloved family. I have so many things I want to show them. It’s a beautiful country, and I speak a little Italian, so I can get us around without issue. It will be nice to practice. Maybe the kids will learn some, too.

Neve grabs my hand and points out the window, and my attention is pulled away from Trey’s retreating back. When I look up again, he’s gone.

I glance at my watch, and the moment I do, they open the flight for boarding. Shoot. I text Trey.

Hurry babe. They’re boarding now.

The kids surge toward the line, but I hold them back. “We have to wait for Daddy.”

Five minutes pass. Ten. He must have fallen ill after all. People continue to shuffle onto the plane, and I text him again.

Hey, where are you? It’s time to board.

Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear. Finally, the text appears.

Get on the plane. Remember what I told you. Anything. I love you.

“Okay, kids, let’s go. Daddy will meet us on board.”

Amid the cheers of the kids, I glance over my shoulder again, hoping to see Trey hurrying toward us. But nothing.

We line up, and I have our passports ready. The kids are bouncing off the walls. Finally, we’re ushered through. The jet bridge is long, twisting back on itself, but soon enough, we get to the door of the plane. I knock the side of the fuselage three times with my ring, a habit I adopted back when I flew nonstop. Just a little blessing from me to the plane: Keep us safe, in the air, et cetera.

The first-class cabin boasts all the comforts. It smells a bit plasticky; the people who’ve made it on ahead of us are ripping into the amenities bags. We each have our own pod, straight across the row. I put the kids in the middle two pods and drop my bag in the seat on the portside window. I get them settled with books and cards and their drawing notebooks, and unpackage the airline-supplied blankets, pillows, and socks. They get a special child-appropriate amenities kit, which impresses them to no end. The flight attendants offer the kids orange juice, and I accept a glass of champagne. With the first sip, my shoulders drop even more. It’s all going to be okay.

It takes quite some time to board a maxed-out 777. I keep waiting for Trey to appear in the aisle. I’m definitely going to be asking about his high school antics now. He got so flustered by that woman; there’s a story there. Not necessarily about her—though clearly he looked like someone she knew twenty years ago. Everyone has a doppelgänger.

I finish the champagne. Text him again.

Where are you?

Nothing. Another fifteen minutes pass, and now the crew is preparing to shut the cabin doors. The first edges of panic start. I flag a flight attendant with a slick ballerina bun.

“We’re still waiting for my husband. He went to the bathroom in the terminal. I think he was feeling ill. There was a lot of turbulence on the inbound flight.”

The woman answers in a lilting Italian accent. “He must hurry. The doors will close in two minutes.”

I text, then call. Voicemail. Voicemail again. Voicemail again.

The flight attendant returns. “Madam, I am sorry. We are leaving now. I must ask you to take your seat.”

This is ridiculous. “I can’t leave without my husband.”

Neve picks up on the note of fear in my voice. “Is Daddy okay?” Four immediately echoes with “I want Daddy!”

That’s it. I stand up. “Seriously, you have to let me off the plane. I have to see if he’s all right. Something must have happened. He could have passed out in the bathroom. He’s not answering my calls or texts.”

“I am afraid that is impossible. I will tell the pilot and have the gate agent alerted.”

Neve starts to cry, and Four joins her. I dial again. Voicemail again. I grab my bag, pull down the overhead bin, and hand the kids their backpacks.

“Come on, babies. We have to go find Daddy.”

The people around me are reacting now, some cursing silently, giving openly hostile looks, a few others looking appropriately concerned. But this isn’t their problem. They are flying to Italy, all of their people are present and accounted for, and they just want to be on their way.

The flight attendant is getting upset now, too, but I shake my head. “Listen, I’m really sorry, but you can’t possibly expect me to fly my children overnight to another country without their father. Now let us off.”

About the Author

J.T. Ellison is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than 35 psychological thrillers and domestic noir novels. When she’s not writing about murder and mayhem, she’s the Emmy® award-winning co-host of A Word on Words on Nashville PBS, where she gets to talk about books for a living.

With millions of books sold in over 30 countries, her work has earned critical acclaim, prestigious awards, and multiple TV options. She lives in Nashville with her husband and twin kittens—one of whom is a ghost—where she’s always plotting her next twisted tale.

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