The inbox that takes your side.
$99/office/month · every human included · no per-seat tax
The price is right here because we also hate "contact us for pricing."

THE INBOX — AS IT STANDS THIS MORNING

Not a mock-up. A still of the live demo office, taken from the real app after every release. The glass lifts when you tap it.

the same office, on a phone

PEOPLE v. YOUR INBOX

Exhibits from a real week of office email. Each one animates its crime, then its sentence. Tap any exhibit to flip it yourself.

EXHIBIT A — THE COMIC SANS COUNTER-OFFERAS SENT

We are prepared to offer a refund of $40. As stated previously, nobody reads cakes. Govern yourself accordingly!! 😊

We are prepared to offer a refund of $40. As stated previously, nobody reads cakes. Govern yourself accordingly.

Their font never enters the building. The email arrives in their words — it opens in yours. You'll simply never know it was Comic Sans, and you'll be happier.
EXHIBIT B — THE UNBROKEN LINEAS SENT
PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT PURSUANT TO SECTION 12(b) OF THE AFOREMENTIONED AGREEMENT THE UNDERSIGNED HEREBY GIVES NOTICE WITHOUT WAIVER OF ANY RIGHTS REMEDIES OR OBJECTIONS PREVIOUSLY RESERVED AND FURTHERMORE 
PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT PURSUANT TO SECTION 12(b) OF THE AFOREMENTIONED AGREEMENT the undersigned hereby gives notice…
⟨ narrower · remembered for this sender ⟩
One tap, and it wraps forever. 0N remembers that this sender writes in one enormous line — and quietly fixes every email they will ever send you.
EXHIBIT C — THE BILLBOARDAS SENT
…the actual message is down here somewhere. It's two sentences.

Counsel — confirming receipt of the revised worksheet. We will respond by Thursday.

Just the words. Banners fold away, tracking pixels starve, and printing is text-only by default — opposing counsel's logo can buy its own ink.
EXHIBIT D — THE MICROSCOPICAS SENT

The parties agree that all notices shall be delivered in writing and shall be deemed received upon the earlier of actual receipt or three days after mailing, whichever occurs first, provided however that any notice delivered by electronic mail shall be deemed received upon transmission absent a bounce, and further provided that the foregoing shall not limit any right to object on grounds of legibility, which right the drafter has thoughtfully made impossible to exercise by rendering this clause in a font size customarily reserved for the bottom row of an eye chart.

You read at 21px. Or 42. Your call, every email, automatically.

The lean-in squint is not a core exercise. Every person in the office sets their own size, font, and spacing once — and every email obeys.
EXHIBIT E — RE: RE: RE: RE:AS SENT
> >> On Tue, counsel wrote:
>>> >>>> On Mon, you wrote:
>>>>> per my last email
>>>>>> see below
>>>>>>> see above
>>>>>>>> which below?
>>>>>>>>> the below below
my client can do Aug 11 or 13
the 13th. our offices, 10am.
confirmed. reporter as before.
Threads read as a conversation. Their side left, your side right, newest at the bottom — and the untouched original is always one tap away. We never change the email. Only how it treats you.

AND THEN — THE PART NO EMAIL APP HAS

NOBODY'S SEEN IT OPENED · JAN RESPONSE NEEDED ✓ CALLED BACK ✓ FILED ✓ PAID ✓ REPLIED — can't be clicked. earned.

Ten people, one Gmail, and the only question an office inbox was ever asked — "who's on it?" — answered at a glance, all day. Nobody forwards the office its own mail. The boss never has to ask.

THE PAPERWORK, UP FRONT:
The office owns all the data · Google keeps every email exactly where it was · we own only the code.
We couldn't leak your files if we wanted to — we never have them.
Your AI drafts on your own key. It never sends. The bar association thanks you.
WALK INTO THE DEMO OFFICE →
no signup · no card · tap FEB, PIN 2222 · the peacock case is real 🦚