What to demand in writing if a home app shuts down

Centriq’s users found out by email. “Centriq will cease operations as of January 31, 2026. All versions of the platform will be retired.” (the email, as one user posted it) The manuals, receipts and warranty PDFs people had kept there for years had a deadline, and nobody had been told what would happen to them after it. I wrote up what happened to Centriq already. This article is about the part that comes before: what should be in writing before you put the first receipt into any home app, where to find it, and what to do the day the email comes.

The promise has to be made while things are going well

Every company thinks it will last. Centriq did. So a promise about the end is only worth something if it is written down now, in the app’s own terms of service or privacy policy, in words you can read today and hold them to later. “We care about your data” is not a promise. A number of days is. A named file format is. A sentence that says who can buy the company and what they inherit is.

Centriq’s own privacy policy allowed users’ information to pass to “a buyer or other successor” (Centriq’s privacy policy, archived November 14, 2025). Its export was a report you had to request, a list of your items with model and serial numbers, not a copy of your files (Centriq’s features page, archived). Both of those were in writing the whole time. Almost nobody reads that far down, and that is the point of this article.

Five things that belong in writing

1. Notice, counted in days. Look for a number. “Reasonable notice” is not a number. The question to answer is how long you have between the email and the day the servers go dark, and whether that is enough time to get everything out.

2. An export you can open without the app. A list of your things is not your things. The receipt photo, the warranty PDF, the inspection report: those are the record, and the export has to include them, in a format that opens on any computer. PDF, JPG, CSV and a folder of the original files count. A “report” you have to ask for, or a format only the app can read, does not.

3. What happens to the data after, and by when. Deleted, and a number of days. If the policy is silent, the data can sit on a server, or a hard drive in a closet, for as long as anyone likes.

4. Who can buy the company, and what they inherit. A privacy policy’s clause on a merger, acquisition or sale of assets is where your information is allowed to change hands. The sentence to look for is whether the buyer is bound by the same promises you signed up under, or free to write new ones.

5. The records are never sold. Not to an insurer, a lender, a lead buyer or a “similar third party”. If the sentence is not there, the answer is that they can be.

Where to look on any app’s pages

The privacy policy is where the end of the company lives. Find the paragraph headed “business transfers”, “change of control”, “merger or acquisition” or “sale of assets”. That is the clause that says what happens to your records when the company stops being the company. Then find “retention” or “deletion”, which says how long they keep what they hold.

The terms of service hold the rest: “export” or “your content” for what you can take out and in what form, “termination” for what happens to your account and your files when either side ends it, and “changes to these terms” for how much notice you get before the rules move.

If a sentence is not on the page, the answer is “not promised”. Take a screenshot of the page with the date on it. These pages change, and the archived copy is often the only proof of what you signed up under.

What the apps we read say

Between April and October 2026 we read the public pages of fourteen other home apps, Hint, Archer, homeowner.ai, Dib, Manse, Homer, HomeZada, HouseFacts, HomeScore, Eave, Casa, Digital Home Manual, Villadex and Handyman.ai, and wrote down, with the date we read it, what each says about taking your records out and about the company closing.

On closing, none of the fourteen said on the pages we read what happens to your records if the company shuts down. That is not an accusation. It is what the pages say, and what they leave out.

On taking your records out, five say something. Archer: “get a copy of it in a portable format” (archerhome.com/privacy, read October 27, 2026). Manse: you can “receive a portable copy” (mymanse.ai/privacy, read July 24, 2026). Digital Home Manual: “you can ask us to show you what we hold, correct anything wrong, export your data, or delete your account and its contents”, by email (digitalhomemanual.com/privacy-policy, read August 15, 2026). Handyman.ai: it will “tell you what we hold about you, and give you a copy”, asked for by email or text (handyman.ai/privacy, section 9, read October 20, 2026). Eave: “Export is available at every tier, including Free.” (eavehome.app/support/data-privacy, read October 15, 2026).

Read those against the five things above. A copy of your personal information on request is a real right, and in most of these it is a copy of what you typed in, not a folder of your files, and there is no number of days attached to it. The pages may have changed since we read them, which is why every line carries its date.

Since then we read seventeen more home apps, and seven of them say something on closing. Three give a number. Kept: “Every account gets an email at least 90 days before kept closes.” (getkeptapp.com/about.html, read November 3, 2026). Our Home Folder: “we will make reasonable efforts to provide active account holders with at least 90 days’ advance notice” (ourhomefolder.com/data-promise, read November 3, 2026). Plumworth: “If Plumworth ever shuts down, you get at least 90 days’ notice by email and the chance to download your whole house before anything is deleted.” (plumworth.com/terms, read November 7, 2026). Two promise notice and an export, with no number. DwellPulse: “we will provide advance notice and allow data export” (dwellpulse.com/terms, read November 3, 2026). OnOtto: “reasonable advance notice, in which case we’ll provide a way to export your data first” (onotto.com/terms, read November 3, 2026). Two keep the right to stop without telling you. Dwellin “may terminate these Terms at any time without notice if it ceases to support the Application” (dwellin.com/terms, read November 3, 2026). Keepingly reserves the right to “discontinue all or part of the Site without notice” (keepingly.com/legal/terms, read October 27, 2026). The other ten say nothing about it on the pages we read.

What Homaic puts in writing

Here is our own, as it reads today, so you can hold us to it the same way.

Our privacy policy, section 4.15, word for word: “Homaic will not transfer personal information to an unaffiliated party except under these promises. A buyer, or anyone who gains control of Homaic, takes the data only by adopting them unchanged. Before any transfer, every owner is told and can export everything and delete it first. If Homaic closes, every owner gets 90 days’ notice and an export in an open format, and then the data is deleted. The records are never sold. No insurer, lender or data broker may own or control Homaic, or sit on its board, unless bound by these promises.” (homaic.io/privacy, §4.15)

Our terms of service, section 8.2: “You can export the full set of Your Content at any time from the Settings page. Exports are produced in standard, machine-readable formats. No exit fee, no rate gate, no upsell.” (homaic.io/terms, §8.2) Section 8.3 says that when you delete your account, your content is purged within 30 days, with backup copies aged out within 90 days. Section 12 says material changes to the terms come with at least 30 days’ notice by email and in the product.

Measured against the five things: 90 days, an open format, deleted after, a buyer bound unchanged, never sold. Those are the sentences. Homaic is free for one house. Who pays for an app, and how to tell from its own pages: Who pays for the app you use. I am not going to tell you the promise has been tested, because it has not. I can tell you it is in writing, and where.

The day the email comes

Export everything that day, not on the last day. When Centriq shut down, I read Reddit threads from people scrambling to download their records, or locked out entirely (what happened to Centriq).

Keep the original files. A receipt photo is often the only proof of when you bought something, and a warranty PDF is often the only copy. If the export is a list, go back into the app and save each document by hand.

Check your phone’s photo roll. Centriq said photos added in its app were also stored there (Centriq’s features page, archived). Other apps may do the same, and may not.

Save the email itself, with its date. It is the notice, and it is the proof of how much notice you got.

Write down the model and serial numbers of the big things, the furnace, the water heater, the roof’s install date, somewhere that is not an app. A sheet of paper in the kitchen drawer has never shut down.

Then ask for a copy of your personal information by email, using the sentence from the privacy policy. Of the five apps quoted above on taking your records out, four promise one on request, and Eave’s says export is there at every tier. Ask on day one.