What she says about her dad isn't unfair, and Coop is sure he'd have a hell of a hard time trusting a guy who would do that to him, too. He wonders if maybe there's a way to turn the tables, find enough leverage to make Robert help, but he realizes that he doesn't even know where to start with doing something like that. He's not a conman, he's never lied to someone for material gain--except for that one time he'd tricked a friend in elementary school into giving him a Star Wars toy, but he'd ended up being forced to give it back--and this isn't the kind of world he's ever been interested in being a part of.

And yet, he's willing to be part of it now. For a friend, for someone he's come to care more deeply about than maybe he'd even realized, Coop really does want to do what needs to be done to make sure April's okay. In a way, he thinks that should be a frightening realization, to understand what lengths he'd go to for someone important to him, but it turns out that it isn't. If anything, it only makes him understand himself better. The kind of man he is, the kind of man he's always intended to be, this is all just a part of that.

"Well, maybe you'll have to figure out a way to con the conman," he says, "and maybe it won't be easy, but that's what people like me and Les and Caden are for, we'll have your back." He shouldn't speak for the others, he knows that, but Coop has to imagine that they'd never walk away from April. He's learning more and more that it's an insanely difficult thing to do.