A coded memory of a world designed to trap and erase us

Why Victor’s story isn’t just fiction

They called it a “settlement,” but it wasn’t.

The Pale was a prison drawn in ink, stretching across thousands of miles. Call it a larger version of a ghetto, for instance. Millions of Jews lived inside it. Lived, and weren’t allowed to leave.

Not without bribes. Not without paperwork soaked in blood and favor. Not without losing someone.

By the 19th century, the Pale of Settlement had become the largest legally mandated ghetto in the world. Jews were barred from living in cities like Moscow or St. Petersburg, banned from owning land, excluded from universities, and conscripted into 25-year military service starting at age 12. Not 18. Twelve.

And yet—some escaped.

But escape didn’t look like an adventure. It looked like smuggling your name out on a forged passport. It looked like women leaving their families behind for a chance to live more freely (but not completely free). It looked like bribing a border guard with your mother’s wedding ring. It looked like losing your entire family for the chance to beg in London’s East End.

Victor is one of them.

And no, he’s not “based on” anyone. He’s stitched from a thousand real accounts. The cousin who changed his name in Vie. The great-uncle who disappeared in the forests near the Pripyat Marshes. The jewel-cutter’s apprentice who arrived in England with a velvet pouch of garnets and nothing else.

Victor’s story is not a romantic escape. It’s a feat of survival against a system that was designed to fail you.

If you want to understand why Victor guards his secrets like gold… why he doesn’t trust easily… why every moment with Gail feels like walking a tightrope over memory and obligation—

You need to know what it meant to get out.

This post isn’t just history. It’s context. And a warning about my books.

Because when you read my historical fiction that features Jewish characters escaping from the Pale, ask yourself: how did they do it?

Because statistically? They didn’t.

And those who did? Carried scars you’ll never see. Unless someone dares to write them.

I did.

Victor’s journey isn’t just about reaching England. It’s about earning the right to be seen as human—by a country, by society, and most painfully, by himself.

If you’ve been following Victor and Gail’s story, now’s the time to revisit the posts I’ve shared so far—the whispers, the near-confessions, the unraveling truths. Then head to my website and pre-order the book that finishes what they started.

Paid subscribers, unlock bonus content: Why this matters for Victor