A verdict you can't inspect isn't worth much. Here is the whole method: the questions, the weights, and how a score becomes hours.
Twelve plain questions, a verdict in hours, and every gap named. Free — and nothing you answer leaves your browser.
The test asks about the twelve things a designated person needs in the first two days. Each carries a weight out of 100, set by how early its absence hurts:
Yes earns the full weight, Partly earns half, No earns none. Your score out of 100 becomes a share of 48 hours — with a floor of 2 hours, because even a stranger with a phone can improvise an evening, and a ceiling of 48, because past two days the question changes from "can they run it" to "how well." The verdict names every gap that cost you hours, in the order it would hurt, and each gap points to the kit section that closes it.
It is not a legal assessment, not a medical one, and not a prediction. It's a planning mirror: it measures what's findable and known, which is the part of readiness you can fix this weekend. It runs entirely in your browser; your answers are never transmitted, stored, or seen by us.
An organizer holds the map of a life. Hosted on a company's servers, that map is a breach target with a subscription attached, and the company becomes a permanent middleman between you and your own plan. This kit inverts it: the file and the printout live with you, storage is your decision, and our servers learn nothing beyond the fact that a kit was bought. We can't leak what we never had.