Amanda Smith answered the door one afternoon in April and came face to face with the local Sheriff’s department in upstate Pennsylvania. The officers said they had a warrant for her arrest for a crime she had allegedly committed more than a thousand miles away in Arkansas.

“I was completely confused,” Smith recalled. For one, she had never been to Arkansas. Second, the warrant was for computer fraud. By her own admission, Smith was not a very tech savvy person.

She had a feeling she was being set up. After discussing with the officers the practicalities of what was about to happen — she was allowed to get her contact lenses — they took her away in handcuffs to the local jail where she spent three nights.

The reason for Smith’s arrest, she learned later, was that a scammer had tricked someone on Facebook Marketplace into sending $1,000 to a CashApp account in her name that the scammer controlled. The scammer created the account using her Social Security number and date of birth. Smith said she has never used CashApp.

What developed over the next few days, and has now stretched across six months, is a Kafkaesque situation in which Smith, in her telling, is being asked to prove her innocence in an ongoing criminal case, while CashApp refuses to provide her any information about the account because she couldn’t prove that she was the owner.