Bel Price Quotes

Family first", Bel said. Not a threat, but a promise.

A little insensitive", she whispered, loud enough that Bel and Carter could hear. "Giving the man with dementia a book called The Memory Thief.

She would have needed a reason, Bel, to go through all that effort. People don’t just decide to disappear. She’d need a motive. A reason.

Bel forgot, for a moment, that that was her; the first part of her name that she’d amputated years ago. She didn’t know Rachel had called her Anna; no one had ever told her.

was easy to push people away when you knew how. Bel had a clean record; she was very, very good at it. Making people leave her before they chose to go anyway. Same result in the end, because everybody left eventually, but it hurt less. That was what life was, choosing the way that hurt less.

All great gifts come with a great price," Bel murmured.

Bel chose Dad. He was her constant, the one who’d never leave.

Charlie and Bel never spoke, even though they’d been given microphones. They were just props, the picture of a reunited family. Happy, but not too much, Dave had told them. It wasn’t a true happy ending until the man was caught.

No.” Rachel hugged her chest, shielding it. But they were only arms and Bel could break through those. “But he tried to hurt you. I panicked. It wasn’t part of the plan, I just wanted to protect you, keep him away from you. No one touches my daughter.

Yes, I’ve checked everywhere,” Bel said, breathless from explaining. “But—I’m trying to tell you—my dad wouldn’t leave. Trust me. Something has happened to him, something bad.

Did she? More than anything in the whole wide world? Well then, why did she leave Bel behind in the backseat of her car just forty-eight hours later? Disappeared forever. Explain that one.

You owe him,” Bel said, darkly, lowering her voice. “You owe him, and you know it. You’ve been wrong about him before. Convinced he was the one who killed Rachel. Locked him up, made him face trial. You were wrong and you put him through hell. Here’s your chance to do the right thing. You owe him. Please. Help me find him.

Bel could choose to believe Rachel or to believe Phillip Alves, and Rachel was the easier choice, didn’t hurt as much.

I, for one, wouldn't put needles in your hands." "Why not?" "You seem like the stabby type," he said, their eyes meeting, a slow blink. "Thank you." Bel nodded, leaning closer.

I'll let go when you stop being grumpy," Carter laughed, their backpacks crashing together. "I'm never grumpy," Bel said, grumpily.

The trip to Story Land for her twelfth birthday. That photo of her and Dad. They stopped at Taco Bell on the way home, and… The knot twisted, leaving a knife-shaped hole, Bel bleeding around it. Dad had lied to her. All this time. Bel said it was three hours, enough time to piss herself twice, sobbing in the backseat like the world had ended, because part of it had. But Dad told her it had been only fifteen minutes—max—that she was just being silly. Bel had believed him, she’d rewritten the memory in her head, turned it into a funny childhood anecdote.

She rang the doorbell in the way she did, so they'd know it was her, to the tune of "Baby Shark," which no one found annoying. "Bel, that's annoying," Sherry said, pulling open the front door.

No, she was being ridiculous. Bel moved her eyes away. Ash didn’t care. They were just here to make their movie, then they’d fuck off back to England forever. Bel didn’t need to push; he was leaving anyway.

Hello,” Rachel said, narrowing her eyes, surprised to see a British film crew standing at her front door, staring in shock. “R-Rachel?” Ramsey staggered. “Rachel Price?” Rachel stepped forward, glancing at Bel, then Charlie, like she was checking with them first. Neither of them said anything to stop her. “That’s me.” She dipped her head. “Who are you?” “Jesus Christ.” He whistled. “No, that’s not my name. I’m Ramsey Lee, filmmaker.

I really believe that people don’t understand how much I learned from watching Family Matters, The Fresh Prince of Bel-air and A Different World. Dwayne Wayne’s character taught me that not matter how hard school gets or not matter what people say about your physical appearance, push through it and be yourself, and always give back to the place that gave to you. Steve Urkel’s character taught me how to love a girl and the importance of patience. The Fresh Price of Bel-air demonstrated how to be a good son, and even if you are without a father, there is still a bright future that lies ahead. I practice everything I learn from these shows in my daily life and I get positive results.

Charlie Price, a name forever marred after Dave Winter arrested him for something he didn’t do. That made sense, Dad leaving for that reason, Bel could shift things around in her head to accept that.

He started when Dad was in jail, for your murder,” Bel said, finding her footing again, stepping forward.

A relationship comes with its own cost, but love is worth the price of admission. You don't get to set the price, but if you want to come aboard, you have to pay it.

But in this vast ocean of time Mr. Hosokawa could not seem to startle up any concern for Nansei. While he stared at the weather he never wondered if his abduction had affected stock prices. He did not care who was making his decisions, sitting at his desk. The company that had been his life, his son, had fallen away from him as thoughtlessly as a coin is dropped.

Messner scratched the back of his head. “Ah, I’m afraid that’s your fault. If you thought you were famous before you came in this place you should read about yourself now. You make Callas look like a spear carrier. If they tried to starve you out the government would be overthrown in an afternoon.” Roxane looked up at him, blinked a pretty stage blink, large and pleased. “So if I get out of here alive I can double my price?” “You can triple

RIP,” Bel grumbled. “Rest in pee?” he added.

Bel turned back to the camera, catching Ash’s eyes on the way over. He gave her a small double thumbs-up, held tightly to his strawberry-covered chest. Urgh, he could shove those thumbs up his—

Tripe?” Bel asked Ash. “Tripod,” he said. “I decided to shorten it. You gain a second every time you abbreviate. Those seconds all add up in the end. Time is money, my friend.

You’re eighteen now, Bel. You weren’t even two years old when Rachel went missing. Twenty-two months old, in fact. And of course, one of the most notable things about this case that sets it apart from all others, was that you were with her. You were with your mum when she disappeared.

The passenger-side door opened. Rachel Price stepped out. Bel froze.

Long day ahead of us. Sooner we get started, the sooner we can wrap up.” “Not soon enough.” “That’s the spirit, Bel.

Only one version could be true. Rachel must have misspoken, either now or with Bel. Yes, it must have been a mistake, because the only other option was a lie, and why would Rachel lie about something like that, such a small detail in such a big story? A mistake.

A little insensitive,” she whispered, loud enough that Bel and Carter could hear. “Giving the man with dementia a book called The Memory Thief.

Hi, it’s Bel, Annabel Price. My dad is missing.

He didn’t,” a voice said behind Bel, a voice so familiar it almost sounded like her own.

Bel had made her choice, she chose her mom, and she chose her again, every single second,

It was easy to push people away when you knew how. Bel had a clean record; she was very, very good at it. Making people leave her before they chose to go anyway. Same result in the end, because everybody left eventually, but it hurt less. That was what life was, choosing the way that hurt less.

Remember how I told you to take care of that camera, Ash?” he said. “Yeah.” Ash scratched his hair under the cap, raising it up, elongating his head. “Accidentally gave it to Bel.” “Why?” “Because she asked.

Three lies. Bel had caught her now.

Marking her message in a dozen books. Maybe hundreds. A hundred hopes. A hundred chances. A bookshelf full of them, Grandpa hoarding them here, telling Bel they were special, but never why. Because her mom had read them first.

It was Grandpa. Someone did take Rachel, she hadn’t lied about that part, but it wasn’t a stranger. Grandpa was the man. He took Rachel from the car on that frozen February evening sixteen years ago, leaving Bel behind. Doors closed, heater on, so his only granddaughter wouldn’t freeze on the backseat as he disappeared her mom, his daughter-in-law.

Bel!” Her name, pushed as loud as a whisper could. “I don’t care about the footage. I don’t care about the documentary, that I’ve fucked it all up. I care about you.