Summary of “”As an Added Bonus, She Paid for Everything”: My Bright-Lights Misadventure with a Magician of Manhattan”

Our S.U.V. hummed along the cobblestones of Crosby Street as we drove from 11 Howard, the hotel Anna had called home for three months, to the Mercer, the hotel Anna planned to move into when we got back from our trip.
For the rest of 2016, I saw Anna every few weekends.
Anna had settled into the L-shaped booth closest to the door.
Before the woman could reply, Anna continued, “I’ll take one in black and one in white linen and, Rachel, I’d love to get one for you.” I scanned the store’s racks as Anna tried on a bright red jumpsuit and a range of gauzy sheer dresses.
Her overt evasion confirmed what I had feared most: Anna was not to be trusted.
Anna reappeared in the lobby of the trainer’s apartment, just as I left civil court.
Anna sat across from me as the women relentlessly pressed for answers, for names, for a way to reach Anna’s family.
Against the raised voices and direct accusations, Anna’s face assumed an unsettling blankness.

The orginal article.