Your caseload.
One clear starting point.

What you can do

Meet, record the work, and hand back an account of it.

Inside a family, you can schedule a meeting with a video link, exchange documents for each student, and comment on work you can see. When the meeting is over, the Recap Room drafts the recap and you edit it — nothing reaches the family until you post it as your note.

The rest of the console is the work between meetings. You propose a follow-up and the family accepts it, which is what puts it on their board; you suggest a college and they answer. A playbook — your own process, written as steps off a student's real anchors — dates itself onto one student's calendar, and a missing anchor is left blank rather than guessed. You can ask your whole caseload a plain question and get an answer built only from what each family authorized. For a single essay, an authenticity dossier says what Bloom delivered and what it did not; it is not a detector and refuses to act like one. At renewal, a value report assembles one period of your work — meetings held, follow-ups proposed, deadlines met — and you sign it before the family can read it.

If your practice bills by the hour, that account carries your own books too: the family reads your engagement letter, accepts it, and reads your invoices on their own page. It is your ledger that opens to them, never theirs to you — you stay outside the family's financial information, you cannot edit their record, and you cannot take it with you.

Anything you record for a family — notes, meetings, documents, proposals, and every room you open with them — lives in that family's own record, where they can read it. There is one exception, and we would rather name it than let you find it: your private working notes. Every counselor needs somewhere to ask the hard judgment question, and that space is yours alone. The family cannot read it, nobody else at your practice can read it, it is never used to tell the family anything, and it never leaves with their export.