What happens to my business if you disappear?
Nothing. I hold nothing.
If I vanished tomorrow, your system would keep working exactly as it did yesterday, and any competent developer could pick it up and carry on.
I’m not going anywhere. But you shouldn’t have to take that on faith, and with this you don’t.
Four things, and all four of them are yours.
The accounts
Every third-party account is opened in your name, with your billing details, and you hold the login. I get access the way a member of staff would — granted by you, and revocable by you in an afternoon.
The code
All of it, delivered to you, readable by any competent developer. It isn't licensed to you and it isn't a template you're renting. There's no part of it that stops working if you stop paying me.
The infrastructure
It runs in your own accounts, not inside a platform of mine that you're a tenant of. Nothing is switched off by me stopping. The bill carries on going straight to you, because it always did.
The data
Your customers' information sits in your accounts. It doesn't pass through anyone else's company, including mine, and there's no copy of it in some shared database I'm holding.
And while it’s running
I can’t open another client’s files, and neither can anyone else.
Every client gets a separate key that opens only their own files. A request for anyone else’s is refused before our code is even asked.
That distinction matters more than it sounds. Most systems check who you are in their own software, which works right up until somebody makes a mistake in that software. Here the refusal happens underneath all of it, where nothing I write can reach.
Which means it isn’t a promise about how careful I am. It’s just not something I’m able to do.
One person built all of this. That person answers the phone.
Not a project manager. Not a ticket. Not somebody reading your account notes for the first time. Me.
That’s the reason everything above is written down. A one-person operation has to answer the disappearing question properly, and the only honest way to answer it is to hold nothing worth holding.
Owning it doesn’t make it expensive.
Because the accounts are yours, the running bill goes straight to you and there’s nothing for me to mark up. It’s usually under $100 a month.
None of that starts until you’ve seen something worth owning. The audit is free and it’s where everyone begins.