A haunting voice, a forgotten legacy, and a golem waiting to wake.
Welcome to ADAM, a bi-weekly serialized historical fantasy rooted in Jewish mysticism and folklore. Each installment reveals a new chapter in the unfolding tales of three Jewish women living during three different moments of history. In this chapter, certain events in Ruby’s childhood are revealed. Ruby is shaped by her history, and it is the driving force behind her work. While the other two timelines in this novel take place in the past, this “possible” future is purely speculative fiction, and it was both fascinating and challenging to write. If you’re just joining us, welcome! You can catch up anytime using the full Chapter List. If you’re back, I’m so glad to have you here! You can start reading below.
If you’re curious about the inspiration behind ADAM, this article shares how the story came to be and why I’m telling it one chapter at a time. Thank you so much for reading and being part of this journey — it means the world to me.
I’d love to know what you think so far. If you have thoughts, questions, or favorite moments, drop a comment below — I welcome the conversation and am so glad to have you with me.
Chapter List
Chapter One: The Maharal’s Daughter
Chapter Two: The Witch of Döbling
Chapter Three: The ADAM Project
Chapter Four: The Sacred Shidduch
Chapter Five: The Fifth Aliyah
Chapter Seven: The Golem of Prague
Chapter Eight: Under the Olive Tree
Chapter Nine: A History Lesson
Chapter Ten: Unseen
Chapter Nine: A History Lesson
San Francisco, 2049
Leaning against her headboard, Ruby waited for her parents to answer her call. The last of the daylight had faded to dusk and her apartment was dark except for the small circle of light cast by her bedside lamp. She absently picked at her blanket, a gift from her mother on her birthday the year before, her thoughts returning to her trip. Her conversation with ADAM had brought back memories she hadn’t faced in a long time. Now, she was eager to see her mother’s face.
The pastoral scene projected on her wall screen dissolved, and then her mother and father appeared in its place, smiling at her across the miles. While Ruby usually used HTR (holographic telecommunication rooms) with her work peers and friends, her parents preferred the dated FaceTime method. They were sitting in their usual spot on the sofa in front of a dark bay window that usually looked out at a gated pool, and Ruby remembered it was three hours later in Boca.
“Ruby!” Her mother exclaimed, leaning forward so her face filled the screen. “You’re home?”
“I am. I got in a couple of hours ago. I’m sorry for not calling you sooner. I hope it’s not too late.”
“Never too late,” Her father assured her as he, too, leaned forward. “It’s so good to see you!”
“You should have let us know when you got home,” her mother complained, but her father put a comforting hand on her shoulder and asked, “How was the trip?”
“It was good, Dad,” she replied.
“Were you safe?” Her mother interrupted, and Ruby saw her hands twisting in her lap.
“I was, Mom. They put me up in a nice hotel near the park, and the NAJC offices had private security. The rest of New York is . . . well . . . New York.”
“You didn’t tell anyone why you were there, did you?”
“No, Mom.”
Her mother hesitated and her father took the opportunity to steer the conversation in a different direction. “So how did the meeting go?”
Ruby sat back and smiled. “We did it,” she said. “We got the grant.”
She watched as both her mother and father bounced in their seats with joy. Some of the tension in her mother’s face eased as she gushed, “Oh sweetie, that’s wonderful!”
“Mazel Tov!” Her father exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “We knew you could do it!”
“It’s exciting,” Ruby admitted. “We can now move on to the next steps. My work is almost done. The program is nearly complete and will soon be ready to upload.” She failed to mention the discovery she had made, the discovery that she hoped would make ADAM’s program something completely new. That she wanted to keep to herself until she was sure it would work. “The money will help with the software I’ll need to actually upload the program and with the parts Seth still needs to complete his prototype. They’ve given us a workable timetable, and they even want to come here for the launch.”
“Why don’t you come here, Ruby?” Her mother asked for the hundredth time. “You could launch your AI here, in Boca. Seth has said when the time comes, he doesn’t care where you make your work public. We have our police to protect you. This is one of the safest communities for you both. I just don’t want this to . . . Make waves.”
There was silence as they stared at each other through the screen, and Ruby understood her mother’s concern. She had spent her entire life crushed by the weight of her mother’s worry.
“Mom, I can’t live my life scared. I’m doing this so we won’t need to be scared anymore.”
Her mother looked like she was about to argue when her father leaned forward again and said, “We know, Ruby. Just be aware. Be cautious. And know we are proud of you for all your hardwork.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Ruby said as a lump began to fill her throat. Then she asked the question she already knew the answer to. “Mom? Dad? Would you guys come here?”
Her mother and father looked at each other, and that was all the confirmation she needed. “You know we’d love to, honey,” her mother began, her brow furrowed. “It’s just . . .” Her words fell away, and Ruby nodded in the silence.
“Don’t worry about it, Mom.”
“You know we love you.”
“Of course I do. I love you too.”
“And please come visit us after the launch.” Her mother nearly begged.
“I will. I promise.”
As the image on the screen returned to its default setting of a sunset over a field of flowers, Ruby’s thoughts returned to an early memory, one she often kept tucked away. She was sitting in an uncomfortable chair between her parents, her feet swinging, her shoes barely touching the floor. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows above the rabbi’s head, turning the room into a kaleidoscope of color that seemed at odds with the mood of the family and friends surrounding her. The air smelled faintly of wood polish and her mother’s perfume. And then she was pulled to her feet. When the mourner’s Kaddish began, the Hebrew sounded foreign in her ears. She didn’t understand the prayer’s words, but as she curiously glanced around the room at the bent heads and slightly swaying bodies of those around her, she immediately understood the prayer’s meaning. The cadence of the prayer trembled through her small body, ancient and unbroken. Her mother’s fingers tightened into a fist at her side, knuckles whitening, and a stifled sob slipped out of her mother’s mouth. Ruby turned and stared at the wood of her aunt’s coffin so she wouldn’t have to look at her mother’s face, memorizing the grains in the wood as if it could anchor them both.
Ruby sighed and leaned back against her pillows, staring up at the ceiling, her thoughts moving forward in time to the 2028 election, when the United States splintered under its own unrest. She was almost ten years old at the time, and was more concerned about who to invite to her upcoming birthday party than what was happening in the country. But she would come home from school to find her mother glued to the news, watching angry politicians yelling at one another, American flags burning on the steps of government institutions, and protests turning into riots. At first, certain cities were declared treasonous, then certain states, with the National Guard increasingly called up. The country seemed to be descending into another civil war.
At first, her mother switched off the news when she heard Ruby come in, turning and greeting her with a smile and a hug and asking about her day. But over time, she grew so absorbed in the constant coverage that she barely looked up when Ruby got home. One day as Ruby was doing her homework, she heard her mother cry out from the living room. “Mom, what happened?” she called, running to her mother’s side. When her mother didn’t respond, Ruby turned and saw a war playing out on the wall screen. Rockets soared through the air. Sirens wailed through the speakers. Ruby’s heart jumped into her throat and she feared for a moment that she was witnessing something occurring in the skies over America. Then her eyes fell on the scrolling banner below the air strike: ISRAEL ATTACKED! TEL AVIV UNDER FIRE! MASS CASUALTIES REPORTED! The image changed to a grid of reporters commentating on the footage:
“Will the Iron Dome hold?”
“This is an attack of unprecedented scope.”
“The Iron Dome is one Israel’s major lines of defense. If it falls, this could be catastrophic.”
“So far the numbers of reported deaths are higher than what we saw on October 7, making this the largest attack on the Jewish state on record.”
Ruby knelt beside her mother, watching bright streaks of light intercepting brighter streaks and exploding like terrible blooming flowers in midair. Even from an ocean away, Ruby imagined she felt every explosion.
“It’s happening again,” her mother whispered. “I can’t believe it’s happening again.”
The next day, Ruby wanted to stay home from school to be by her mother’s side, but her father insisted she go. “You don’t need to worry, sweetheart,” he reassured her as he pulled the straps of her backpack over her shoulders. “Go be with your friends. Everything will be fine.” But everything wasn’t fine. At school, her classmates watched her as she walked to her desk, and she thought she saw some of them whispering to each other when they thought she wasn’t looking.
“Are you okay?” Her friend Dani asked as she slipped into her seat, her cheeks burning, her thoughts confused.
“Yeah,” she said. “Why?”
“Because your aunt died in Israel on October 7, right? That’s what my mom said. Did any of your family die this time?”
Ruby blinked and glanced over her shoulder at the other students, wondering if that was the reason they were watching her so intently. How did they know, she wondered? Had Dani told them before she got to class? She tried to sit a little taller in her seat and said, “My family is fine.” But she couldn’t stop thinking about her mother’s pale face and clenched hands. Later, on the way to lunch, she overheard a boy in her class say, “She’s Israeli.” She turned to see him standing with a group of other boys, pointing at her. She wanted to correct him, to say, “No, I’m not. I’m American.” But the words froze on her lips.
That day was the first time she had ever felt different, the first time she had felt like the other.
That was the day she started paying attention.
In the following weeks, her father tried to shield her from the news that was constantly playing in their home. He argued with her mother, telling her she needed to turn it off not only for Ruby’s sake, but for her own mental health. But watching the news channels became her mother’s obsession. And Ruby hid behind the living room door or crouched on the landing outside her parents’ bedroom so she could listen as well. She heard the reports that the terrorist regimes in the majority of countries in the Middle East had unanimously launched the attack on Israel. Bolstered by their victory, they now attacked by land, hunting the Jewish population in Israel, chanting “From the river to the sea” and calling for the return of Palestinian land. Columns of smoke rose from Israeli neighborhoods while bombs exploded and gunfire peppered the concrete facades, chipping balconies into dust and sending windows shattering into the streets below. Banners stretched across storefronts, declaring the triumph of a new intifada. The term Mass Exodus was used for the first time, with footage showing Ben Gurion airport flooded with bodies and suitcases.
One afternoon at school, as Ruby edged past a knot of older students lingering by their lockers, she heard one of them mutter almost casually, “Israel’s getting what they once dished out.” She froze and glanced around, wondering if he was addressing her, wondering if anyone else had overheard, and wondering if anyone would speak up. No one did.
“It’s different this time,” her mother told her father one night at dinner. “The news keeps reporting what’s happening in Israel, but there’s no support here for the Israelis, no show of solidarity here for what they’re going through. The government is staying silent.”
“Well, a lot of the young politicians were shaped by the Palestinian narrative after October 7,” her father murmured, taking a long sip of wine from his glass.
“Now look where that leaves us,” her mother despaired. “They aren’t condemning what’s happened.”
Her father didn’t answer. Ruby watched him push peas around his plate with his fork.
“What will that mean for us?” Her mother persisted, anger and hopelessness seeping into her words. “What will that mean for the Jewish people?”
Again, he had no answer.
The phone at Ruby’s side suddenly buzzed and she saw a notification that someone was at her front door. Below the notification was a message from Seth: “I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see you.” She clicked on the camera app and saw Seth standing on the doorstep, holding a large bouquet of roses in one hand, a bottle of champagne in the other.
Putting her thoughts away, she buzzed him in, eager for the safety and comfort of his arms.