You can’t call every Sunday to ask about Mom’s bank account. Rowan takes that shift — reading their statements, and yours, for the scams and the quiet charges that drain them. Read-only: we can see, but never move, money.

The detection that finds your forgotten subscriptions is the same detection that reads an aging parent’s account for a scam. You’re the first person on it — free, no card. Adding someone you look after is the next step, not a different Rowan.
Rowan watches the charges that repeat on your accounts and says what’s coming before it lands — along with the ones that crept up, went quiet, or are running on two accounts at once. Free, no card.
See what’s coming upYou can ask how they’re doing without having to ask about their bank account. The same watch reads an aging parent’s account for the scams that drain life savings, and tells you when there’s something worth a call. There’s nothing for them to download.
Add someone you look afterRowan reads your accounts — read-only — and, for the charges it can see repeating, works out when the next one lands. An annual renewal, or a single charge of $100 or more, is worth interrupting you for, so we do — up to a week ahead. Several in the same week arrive as one note rather than a pile of them. The rest sit in a list you can read whenever you like.
It still tells you the things you can only learn afterwards — a price that crept up, a subscription that’s gone quiet, the same service billing two of your accounts — and it writes on Sunday either way, including the weeks when nothing happened.
Free, and no card. Adding someone you love is the only thing that ever costs; what’s here stays free.
When C+R Research asked 1,000 people what they spend on subscriptions each month, the average guess was $86. Counted service by service, the real average was $219 — about $1,600 a year more than they thought. That isn’t carelessness, and it isn’t all waste: a charge you’d gladly pay for is still one you can be caught by. Rowan has no opinion about whether a subscription is worth it. What it can do is tell you the next one is coming.
Pig-butchering, romance, tech-support, IRS impersonation, lottery “fees.” Rowan knows the patterns — escalating crypto transfers, a new payee getting three wires in a day, gift cards bought in a panic — and raises a gentle, specific flag, while there’s still a call worth making.
Then it hands you the call. What to open with, what they’re likely to say back, and how to leave it if it gets tense — plus the account and the transactions written up the way a bank’s fraud line will ask for them.
These are the FBI’s numbers, from its 2025 Internet Crime Report. We haven’t rounded any of them up.
Real reports, quoted as published. Each headline links to the outlet that ran it.
It isn’t a lapse of judgment. The largest category of losses among people over 60 last year was investment fraud — $3.52 billion of it. That’s the patient kind: a wrong number, a polite apology, a friendly conversation that runs for months before anyone mentions money. Losing $38,500 to that is not something that happens to people who aren’t paying attention.
And it’s changing shape. 2025 was the first year IC3 tracked whether a complaint referenced AI. More than 3,100 of those complaints came from people over 60, and they account for over $352 million.
These are only the ones who said something. FTC research puts the share of fraud victims who ever complain to a government agency or the Better Business Bureau at fewer than 1 in 20. The real figures are larger, and nobody knows by how much.
You start with your own accounts, free. Adding someone you look after picks up where that leaves off — the same setup, one step further along, and there’s still nothing for them to install.
Through Plaid, read-only. Your credentials go to the bank, never to us.
It finds recurring charges and price hikes, and quietly watches for anything that looks off. Free, no card.
Say who you’re watching over, and add a card. That’s setup — the watching itself never lands back on you.
We draft it; it goes out from your phone, so it lands in a thread they already trust. They follow the link to connect their bank — nothing to install, no account, no password shared with us, and no power of attorney needed.
It reads the statements so you don’t have to — yours and theirs. When something’s worth your attention you hear from us, with the reasons and what to say when you call. They never see a dashboard.
A stranger texting your parent about their bank is the exact shape of the thing we’re trying to stop. So we don’t ask you to take trust on faith — we build it into what Rowan is, and isn’t.
Rowan can never send a payment, transfer, or freeze a card. If that changes, it’s a different product.
Connections run through Plaid. We never see or store your bank password.
Every flag explains itself in plain English. No mystery scores.
One text, one tap. They’re never asked for a password by us.
Your financial life isn’t a product. We watch it; we don’t monetize it.
Disconnect from the app, or reply STOP to any text if you’re the one being watched over. Your bank connection and everything we learned from it go with it.
It goes out from your phone, in your own words. The only texts we ever send them are a hello when they connect, so they have our number, and then messages about their own account: a bank connection that needs refreshing, or a payment that didn’t go through. Everything else we send them is a reply — forward us a text that looks off and we’ll say what we think of it. They start that one, not us.
Elder-fraud monitoring is not a new idea — it’s just always been sold to the person being watched. Here is what the other two cost, and who they ask to sign up.
No app, no account, no password to remember, no screen to learn. They follow one link to connect their bank; after that we only text them about their own account — a hello when they connect so they have our number, a bank connection that needs refreshing, or a payment that didn’t go through. Everything else we send them is a reply to something they sent us.
Plain English, and the reasons we thought it was worth telling you — never a score you have to take on faith.
You’re the first person on it, and that part never costs anything. The only thing you ever pay for is someone else.
Watching your own money is free, and stays free. No card.
$5/mo each additional · about $13/mo for two, on one bill.
Or $70/yr, $45/yr each additional — about $115/yr for two. Paying by the year saves $26/yr.
Join the waitlistOne person is $8 a month, or $70 a year if you pay yearly — $96 against $70 over twelve months. One forgotten $9.99 subscription, found and cancelled, is $120. We won’t promise you that trade — we can only find what the statements actually show. What’s new is where we look: their account, not just yours.
Rowan reads a suspicious text, email, or link and tells you, in plain English, whether it smells like a scam. No account, no catch — just a second opinion when your gut says something's wrong.
We're onboarding families in small batches. Leave your email and we'll write to you the day your spot opens — no card, no commitment.
No. Rowan is read-only — it can see transactions to spot problems, but it can never move, send, or freeze a cent. That limit is built into how we connect.
No. They get one text, tap once to connect, and that’s it. No app, no account, and no password is ever given to us.
No. Nothing gets filed and no bank has to approve anything — they connect their own account once, through their own bank’s sign-in. If you already have power of attorney, Rowan doesn’t ask for it either. It isn’t a substitute for one, though: power of attorney lets you act on someone’s behalf, and Rowan only ever lets you see.
No. We never send the invite — it goes out from your phone, in your own words. The only texts we ever send them are a hello when they connect, so they have our number, and then messages about their own account: a bank connection that needs refreshing, or a payment that didn’t go through. Everything else we send them is a reply — forward us a text that looks off and we’ll say what we think of it. They start that one, not us.
It watches for the patterns behind pig-butchering, romance, tech-support, IRS, and lottery scams — escalating transfers, new payees, panic gift-card buys — and flags them in plain English, with the reason.
No — and it can’t. Rowan is read-only: it can’t move money, freeze a card, or call a bank. What it does is make sure you’re not starting from nothing. The alert comes with the reasons it fired, a script for the call — what to open with, what she’s likely to say back, how to leave it if it gets tense — and the account and transactions written up the way a fraud line asks for them.
No — that’s the whole design. Low-stakes things wait quietly in the feed, and we push only when something looks worth your attention.
Connections run through Plaid, which is used by apps like Venmo and Robinhood. We never see or store your bank password, and we never sell your data.
Yes — add both parents, or yourself and a parent. You pick who pays when you send the invite: put them on your own card and it stays one bill however many people you watch over, or let a parent pay for herself.
Disconnect anytime from the app. Or, if you’re the one being watched over, reply STOP to any text. Either way we stop monitoring, disconnect the bank, and delete the transactions we synced along with every alert we built from them.