Most debt software begins by asking for the keys to your accounts, on the grounds that typing is inconvenient. Last Statement begins with arithmetic instead, because the arithmetic is the part that was missing and the keys were never needed for it.

What follows is the whole method. It is short on purpose.

One — enter what you owe

Each account needs four things: the balance, the interest rate, the minimum payment, and a name you will recognise. You can type them, or hand it a statement and let it read them out. Either way the figures stay on your device.

There is no bank connection and no credentials at any point. Nothing about this step requires an account with us, and nothing about it is transmitted anywhere for the plan to work.

Two — say what you can pay each month

One number: the total you can put toward all of it in a month, minimums included. Not a budget, not a category breakdown, not a review of your spending. One number, which you can change any time it changes.

This is the only figure you actually control, and it is the one every other result on the screen is a function of.

Three — pick an order, or look at both

Avalanche pays the highest rate first and costs the least interest overall. Snowball pays the smallest balance first, clears an account sooner, and costs a little more. The page computes both and shows the difference in months and in dollars.

Avalanche is the default because it is cheaper. Snowball is one tap away because cheaper is not the same as the one you will keep doing, and the plan you abandon in March costs the most of all.

Four — read the date

What comes back is a month and a year: the one your last payment falls in. Under it, the total interest the plan will cost, and the schedule of which account gets the extra money in which month.

Then the useful part. Add an extra $50 a month and the date pulls in — the page tells you by how many months before you commit to a thing. Take it back out in a hard month and it tells you that just as plainly, in the same tone, without a word about discipline.

And then it keeps it true

Log payments as you make them and the date stays accurate rather than aspirational. A payment above the minimum pulls it in. A missed one pushes it out, and the app says so without ceremony, because a plan that flatters you is not a plan.

New balance on a card you had cleared? The date moves. That is not a failure state and nothing in the app treats it as one — it is just the arithmetic, told to you promptly enough to be useful.

What it costs, and why that is the whole design

One payment of $39 — a debt tool should not become a bill. Not a subscription, not a tier, not a limit on how many accounts you may enter. Buy it once and it is yours through every release that follows, with thirty days to ask for the money back and no reasons required.

The reason that matters more than the price: our revenue arrives the day you buy, so nothing downstream of that depends on how long you stay in debt. No ads, no lender referrals, no refinance affiliates. Nobody pays us when you borrow.

If you want the arithmetic before you want the app, the calculator is free, complete, runs in the browser and asks for nothing at all.