I was born on February 29th, so my parents said I was cursed and told the world I died. In reality, I’ve been locked in a soundproof basement for 16 years. Every four years, they let me exist for one day.

But not the way she thought.

The police came the next morning.

I had called them myself.

My hands shook as I spoke, but I didn’t stop. I told them everything. The basement. The lies. The years measured in silence instead of seasons.

My parents didn’t resist.

My mother sobbed and clutched a blanket like a shield. My father stared at the wall, his face hollow. They were charged with unlawful imprisonment, child endangerment, and abuse.

The media tried to sensationalize it. “The Leap Year Girl.” “The Child Who Didn’t Exist.”

I hated those names.

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