Foggy looks disgruntled. "No, not just between us," he hisses, stepping forward to try to swipe the wallet from the shelf into his own possession. He's not aggressive by any means — that's not really Foggy's way — but he looks as if he's quite unhappy. "Someone stole my wallet the other day and I'm still sore over it."

He opens the wallet to find identification not his own and he shouldn't be disappointed, but he is. It's not even the same color as his wallet, but given how it's one of the few connections to his life before all of this, Foggy is almost desperate to find it and bring it back.

"Look, you can get a job in this place," he scolds, unhappily, retaining the wallet and closing it carefully. He holds out his hand for the cash. "And Mr. Jacobs' got four kids to take care of," Foggy adds, expecting to play to John's feelings, hoping to fan the flames of guilt while altogether lying for the sake of Mr. Jacobs, a man he's only met in passing and really knows nothing about.