Why this exists
Ledgeora was not designed from a list of features. It was designed around one problem that keeps happening in small shops, and that most software quietly ignores.
In a hardware shop the goods are heavy, valuable, and easy to count. Rod, cement, sheets, wire. You know roughly what you have. That is exactly what makes the gap so frustrating: at closing you can see that something has gone, and still have no way of knowing which sale it was.
The problem is almost never a lack of honesty. It is a lack of a record.
A counter gets busy. Someone sells four lengths, means to write it in the book, and then three more customers arrive. By the time the shop is quiet the details are approximate, and an approximate record is the same as no record — it cannot be checked against anything. Where money does go missing, that gap is the space it goes missing in. Close the gap and most of the suspicion has nowhere left to live.
So Ledgeora is built around a single stubborn rule: the record is not a separate chore that happens after the sale. It is part of the sale. Ringing it up and writing it down are the same action, and the stock moves in the same instant. If the sale was recorded, so was everything about it — the items, the price, the time, and who was standing at the counter.
And once something is recorded it stays recorded. There is no delete. That is a deliberate constraint, and it is the one that matters most, because a record you can quietly remove is not really a record at all.
The other consequence of that rule is what the software refuses to do. It does not try to be your accountant, your payroll, or your stock forecaster. It does one thing — make sure nothing leaves your shop unrecorded — and it would rather do that completely than do six things partly.