You’re not the only one getting voicemails about your car’s extended warranty. According to the U.S. Federal Trade Commission (FTC), about 2.6 million people submitted reports on falling victim to fraud in 2024, totaling $12.5 billion in losses. That’s a big jump from $2.5 billion lost in 2023, when the FTC received roughly the same […]

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• Amanda C. Riley is serving prison time for faking cancer and scamming supporters out of thousands of dollars.
• A 2023 podcast and a new docuseries cover her story, which also mentions her husband, Cory.
• Cory and Amanda have two sons together. Here's where Cory is today.

The story of Amanda C. Riley, a Christian woman in California who used her now-archived blog, "Lymphoma Can Suck It," to chronicle her experience after supposedly being diagnosed with Hodgkin's lymphoma was compelling from the start: A young woman blogging about having cancer in order to raise awareness and funds to help pay for her aggressive treatment was actually lying the whole time, leaching attention and more than $100,000 from her friends, family, and even strangers.

It's the reason the "Scamanda" podcast quickly became a megahit upon its 2023 release, and why a new ABC docuseries is telling the story for a second time, delving deeper into how Riley pulled off her scheme and how she was eventually caught.

Amanda pleaded guilty to wire fraud charges in October 2021, and was sentenced to five years in federal prison in May 2022. She was also ordered to pay $105,513 in restitution to her victims. She's currently incarcerated at FMC Carswell, a federal prison in Ft. Worth, Texas, and is scheduled for release on October 15, 2026.

As of January 2025, no one else has been charged with crimes related to their involvement in Amanda's scheme. However, according to the "Scamanda" podcast and docuseries, family members helped her set up websites to acquire donations and contributed posts to her blog. Whether any of them knew Amanda did not actually have cancer or if they truly believed she was ill is unclear.

While Amanda's fake cancer scheme was in full force, her husband Cory Riley was simultaneously battling his ex-wife Aletta Riley in court for custody of their daughter, Jessa. Per the podcast, he cited his wife's supposed diagnosis and medical expenses to try and win custody of Jessa and get his child support payments lowered.

Here's everything we know about Cory Riley's life today.

Where is Amanda C. Riley's husband Cory Riley today?

Cory and Amanda first met when Amanda was a 17-year-old cheerleading coach hired to instruct one of Cory's then-wife Aletta's daughters — one of whom actually had cancer — how to dance. Per the podcast, Cory was about 29 years old at the time.

Cory and Aletta eventually divorced, and he married Amanda a few years later. The couple had two sons together, Carter and Connor, whom Amanda would proclaim were "miracles," since she claimed she shouldn't have been able to deliver a healthy baby while undergoing cancer treatment.

Though the family lived in the Bay Area outside of San Jose for most of the time Amanda was writing her cancer blog, they moved to Texas after Amanda lost her job as principal at Pacific Point Christian School in Gilroy, California.

"Scamanda" podcast host Charlie Webster told Glamour in a 2023 interview that Cory was "looking after his two kids in Texas" where Amanda was serving her sentence.

According to a divorce petition obtained by Today.com, Cory filed for divorce in January 2024. The filing indicated he was still living in Texas at that time.

• Ellen Davis, a writer, said she was targeted by a fake job scam while seeking remote work.
• The scam involved impersonating HR representatives and requesting personal information, according to screenshots.
• Davis warned others to trust their instincts and be cautious of unusual job processes or requests.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Ellen Davis, a New York-based writer. Her identity has been verified, and BI has viewed screenshots from her correspondences. This essay has been edited for length and clarity.

For many, many years, I've worked as a marketing and promotion writer and producer at major networks and companies like People Magazine.

My last role ended a few months ago and I've been actively looking for work. I was primarily going after remote copywriter roles and I was having a hard time getting even a nibble.

Earlier this month, I got a text from a potential job that I had applied for, which seemed a little odd, but I thought, 'Okay, it's a whole new world out there. Technology has changed and maybe this is how representatives are contacting people.'

They said they liked my résumé and thought I would be a great fit.

I wasn't surprised to hear from the company. The name was familiar because I did apply there and I immediately checked the names that they were using on LinkedIn and they were actual HR representatives from the company.

So I started to communicate.

It was a scam

The person texting me told me to contact someone on Google Chat, which also should have been a red flag — but I did it. Her original message said, "We need to hear from you ASAP," and I thought, I'm not going to interview on a weekend. I said I would be available on Monday.

We never had a Zoom call. We never spoke on the phone. She sent me a series of questions asking why I'm the best fit for the job and what my qualifications are.

Things started getting odd when she asked me what my credit score was. I should have ended things right there, but instead, I said, "Honestly, I don't know what my credit score is."

Then she told me what a good job I did and said she was going to present me to the board of directors, which seemed preposterous to me that a copywriter job would go before the board of directors.

At that point, I really started to feel a little odd, so I went on LinkedIn and I wrote messages to the two people from the actual company whose names were used in these fraudulent communications with me.

While I was waiting to hear back from them, the person on Google Chat said the board of directors was very impressed with my credentials and they'd like to hire me as a copywriter. As soon as she said that, she also sent a list of equipment she was going to send to me to be able to do the job, including a 15-inch MacBook, headset, laminator, and printer. As a writer, I thought I would just send a file — why would I have to laminate?

I then saw I had a message on LinkedIn. It was the woman from the actual company who confirmed the Google Chat exchange was a scam and said the company would never contact me via text or Google Chat.

Immediately, I blocked the scammers.

Trust your instincts

The scammers strung me along for at least four or five hours. If I'm going to interview at a company, I research the company. I take pages of notes that I have in front of me when I'm going to go through an interview.

I've heard of this scam before, where they require you to have all this technology in order to perform the job and they send you a check to cover the cost of it and the check turns out to be fraudulent. I have a feeling that's where it was heading.

I'm mortified that I didn't pick up on these signals, but I was eager to move things forward. It was a company that promoted sustainability and I just thought this would have been fascinating work and something that I actually believe in.

I've applied to a few more jobs since, but my heart's a little broken that I fell for this and I definitely don't feel confident at the moment.

There's so much cruelty out there and it can feel like everyone is just trying to separate you from your money and your dignity. We have to protect each other a little bit.

That's why I'm trying to put this out there: If you feel something is wrong, it's likely wrong — very rarely do you get that sense of uncomfortableness in a legitimate interview.

You might be nervous. You might be tense. But if you feel something's wrong, trust your instinct.

• I am a smart, capable adult. I thought I was too clever to get caught up in a scam. I was wrong.
• It happened when I turned to social media to seek help with a travel-related issue with my car rental.
• Next time, I'll remind myself to take a breath and go slow when someone comes to my aid.

I know full well that new internet scams are popping up every day. I'm suspicious to the point of being cynical and I've worked in online media for more than 15 years. I thought I was scam-proof. I was wrong.

Stressful travel made me feel desperate

At the tail end of spending time back East with my family, my son got sick on the day we were supposed to fly home to LA, so I delayed our flight for two days. The plane ticket was easy to switch with no extra charges, but when I went to extend my rental car, the company website said they'd charge me more than $3,000 for a rental car that was supposed to be just $51 per day.

I was panicked. I told myself this must be a mistake and called their customer service number for help. After an hour of getting redirected to automated lines over and over I felt sick. I couldn't pay for this — it would cost more than our entire trip. If I could just get in touch with a live person, I had hope that everything could be worked out.

I turned to social media for help

I remembered I had had luck contacting corporations through social media before and found the rental company's official Facebook page. I posted a message about my situation with a plea for help.

I was flooded with relief when I received an immediate reply from a profile with the title "Customer Service". The person on the other end asked for my phone number and email address, and I got a call minutes later. With a shaky voice I explained what was going on and the voice on the other end of the phone — someone named Kenneth — apologized for the error and said he could help.

And that's when he got me. I was so desperate to connect with a live person, that I was willing to follow every instruction that he gave me to rectify the situation.

Kenneth (who knows if that was even his name) said that not only would I not be charged the exorbitant fee for the extra two days, he would make my extra two days complimentary just for my trouble. All I needed to do was confirm my credit card number.

He said for safety reasons I shouldn't tell him the number over the phone, but instead download an app called Remitly where the number would stay confidential. He said he would send a $100 refund to my card to make up for the extra two days I'd be charged. Looking back, I now realize this doesn't make much sense and it wasn't even the right amount. It should have been $102 if he was crediting me for two days. But, I didn't even hesitate for a second. No warning bells went off in my head or my gut. I was just so glad to finally be getting help. I followed his instructions.

And then, it happened again

Then I got another Facebook message from a different "Customer Service" profile stating they were trying to contact me but I wasn't picking up the phone. "It's OK," I typed. "I'm talking to someone right now."

"Hang up," they wrote. "Hang up the phone."

A chill crept over me from head to toe. "Oh my God," I wrote back. "It's a scam. I just gave this guy my credit card number."

I hung up the immediately and the phone rang again. Now someone allegedly name James was available to help me. Now I was snapped out of my daze and hung up on him as well.

Finally, I heard from a real person

Eventually, the rental car company wrote back on Facebook saying none of the messages or calls had come from them, and that I'd have to work the extra fees out at the rental counter when I returned the car.

I was humiliated and even more panicked now. I called my credit card company and cancelled the card.

I spent the next 36 hours berating myself for being so foolish. When I arrived at the rental car counter, I was able to find a manager who cancelled the $3678.07 charge that caused me to reach out to customer service in the first place, but by then I was a complete wreck.

In the end, the scammers ended up charging me $100 and I don't know if I'll ever get that money back, but realize I'm lucky that's all this annoying lesson cost me.

I'll do things differently next time

The next time I'm up against a stressful customer service issue, I'll remind myself to take a deep breath and go slow. When I feel that sense of relief that someone is coming to my aid, I'll always take a pause and verify that they are who they say they are, especially when I'm reaching out via social media. And the next time someone calls me cynical, I'll tell them "It comes from experience."

For months, popular fighting game YouTubers have been under attack. Even the seemingly most cautious among them have been duped by sophisticated phishing attacks that hack their accounts to push cryptocurrency scams by convincingly appearing to offer legitimate sponsorships from established brands.

These scams often start with bad actors seemingly taking over verified accounts on X (formerly Twitter) with substantial followings and then using them to impersonate marketing managers at real brands who can be easily found on LinkedIn.

The fake X accounts go to great lengths to appear legitimate. They link to brands' actual websites and populate feeds with histories seemingly spanning decades by re-posting brands' authentic posts.

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