Their voice. Their stories. Forever.
An AI platform that captures who someone is — in their own words, in their own voice — while there's still time, so the people who love them can keep them.
Be among the first.
We're opening beta access in small cohorts this summer. Leave your email and we'll tell you when your name is up.
We'll email you a few times a year at most. Your email is never shared, sold, or used for anything beyond this list.
Gentle interviews, not a questionnaire.
An adaptive AI guide asks the kinds of questions a thoughtful friend would — one at a time, over weeks. The hard ones, the funny ones, the ones no one ever thought to ask.
Their voice, preserved.
Recordings are captured in their own words, their own rhythms, their own pauses. The small, specific things that make them them — not a clean summary, but the real texture.
Conversations that remain.
After they're gone, the people who love them can still ask questions — and hear answers grounded in what they actually shared. Always an AI. Never a replacement. But not a silence, either.
I'm building this because of my closest friend.
She has young children. She also has a diagnosis she can't outrun. One evening a few months ago, she told me — in the plain way she says hard things — that what she wanted, more than almost anything, was for her kids to still know who she was. Not the broad strokes. The small, specific things. Her voice on their wedding days. Her advice when they're 30 and lost. The way she laughs.
I made her a document. A long list of questions — about her childhood, her beliefs, the arguments she'd had with her own mother, the things she was scared of, the things she was proud of. She started filling it out. And somewhere in that process I realized: this should be a product. Other people need this too.
So I started building. What's taking shape is a quiet, deliberate tool that captures a person while they're still here — their voice, their stories, their personality — and gives the people who love them a way to carry that forward. Not a replacement. Not a resurrection. Something more like a letter you can still open, and that can, carefully and honestly, answer back.
I'm being slow about this on purpose. A category like this only gets one chance to be built right. If you trust us with your email, I promise we'll treat what we're building — and the reason you signed up — with the weight it deserves.
Thank you for being here early.
A category like this has to be built carefully.
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01 — Consent
The person being captured is always in control.
Every word, every recording, every memory. They can edit, pause, or delete any of it, at any time. Nothing is ever shared — with family, or anyone — without their explicit say-so.
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02 — Honesty
The AI is always, clearly, an AI.
We don't pretend. We don't replicate. We don't do deepfakes. It's an AI representation, grounded in their own words — and we remind you of that, gently, every time.
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03 — Groundedness
It never invents what someone didn't share.
If a family member asks a question the person never answered, the AI says so — honestly. It may offer a careful inference, but it will never fabricate memories or opinions.
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04 — Dignity
Grief is not a product to optimize.
We don't want you on this platform every day. We want you to feel the presence of someone you loved, and then go live your life. Healthy use is the only use we build for.
If this has even been a quiet thought of yours — we'd love to have you with us.
Early cohort access opens this summer. The waitlist is how you hear first.
Join the waitlist ↑