THE NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER One of The New York Times Book Review’ s 10 Best Crime Novels of 2016! The next blockbuster thriller for those who loved  The Girl on the Train  and Gone Girl. ..“a finely crafted novel with a killer twist.”( #1  New York Times  bestselling author  Paula Hawkins)   On a rainy afternoon, a mother's life is shattered as her son slips from her grip and runs into the street...   I Let You Go follows Jenna Gray as she moves to a ramshackle cottage on the remote Welsh coast, trying to escape the memory of the car accident that plays again and again in her mind and desperate to heal from the loss of her child and the rest of her painful past.   At the same time, the novel tracks the pair of Bristol police investigators trying to get to the bottom of this hit-and-run. As they chase down one hopeless lead after another, they find themselves as drawn to each other as they are to the frustrating, twist-filled case before them. Elizabeth Haynes, author of Into the Darkest Corner , says, “I read I Let You Go in two sittings; it made me cry (at least twice), made me gasp out loud (once), and above all made me wish I'd written it...a stellar achievement.” “Chilling, compelling, and compassionate.”—Paula Hawkins, #1  New York Times bestselling author of  The Girl on the Train “Astonishingly good.”—Lee Child, #1  New York Times  Bestselling Author of  Make Me   “Genuinely shocking...[A] cunning psychological thriller.”—Marilyn Stasio, The New York Times Book Review   ‘“On the level of the movie  The Sixth Sense  for its cleverness...This kind of sharp, cunning writing makes one eagerly look forward to Mackintosh’s next novel.”—Shelf Awareness   “An intense psychological thriller…[that] revels in surprises and twists…Outstanding.”—Associated Press “You'll be shocked by the twist in the middle of  I Let You Go— just don't spoil it for everyone else!”—PopSugar   “Thrilling...a tense psychological thriller.”— Real Simple   “Jaw-dropping...the kind of book that sticks in the reader’s mind well after the final sentence.”— Kirkus Reviews  (starred review) “A wonderfully layered thriller that skillfully builds from that one tragic event. It makes a good match for fans of Sophie Hannah and Erin Kelly.”— Library Journal  (starred review)    “Mind-bending.”— Booklist   “Addictive...one thrill after another.”—Samantha Hayes, author of  What You Left Behind Clare Mackintosh is an award-winning New York Times and international bestselling author. She spent twelve years on the police force in England and has written for the Guardian , Good Housekeeping , and other publications. A columnist for Cotswold Life , she is the founder of Chipping Norton Literary Festival and lives in North Wales with her family. She is the author of I See You and I Let You Go . ***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected proof*** Copyright © 2016 Clare Mackintosh PROLOGUE The wind flicks wet hair across her face, and she screws up her eyes against the rain. Weather like this makes everyone hurry; scurrying past on slippery pavements with chins buried into collars. Passing cars send spray over their shoes; the noise from the traffic making it impossible for her to hear more than a few words of the chattering update that began the moment the school gates opened. The words burst from him without a break, mixed up and back to front in the excitement of this new world into which he is growing. She makes out something about a best friend; a project on space; a new teacher, and she looks down and smiles at his excitement, ignoring the cold that weaves its way through her scarf. The boy grins back and tips up his head to taste the rain; wet eyelashes forming dark clumps around his eyes. “And I can write my name, Mummy!” “You clever boy,” she says, stopping to kiss him fiercely on his damp forehead. “Will you show me when you get home?” They walk as quickly as five-year-old legs will allow, her free hand holding his bag, which bangs against her knees. Nearly home. Headlights glint on wet tarmac, the dazzle blinding them every few seconds. Waiting for a break in the traffic they duck across the busy road, and she tightens her grip on the small hand inside the soft woolen glove, so he has to run to keep up. Sodden leaves cling to the railings, their bright colors darkening to a dull brown. They reach the quiet street where home lies just around the corner, its seductive warmth a welcome thought. Secure in the environs of her own neighborhood she lets go of his hand to push away the strands of wet hair from her eyes, laughing at the cascade of droplets it causes. “There,” she says, as they make the final turn. “I left the light on for us.” Across the street, a redbrick house. Two bedrooms, the tiniest kitchen, and a garden crammed with pots she always means to fill with flowers. Just the two of them. “I’ll race you, Mummy . . .” He never stops moving; full of energy from the sec