Marie Grace was just sick about the decision, but it had to be made. The poor girl wasn’t bringing in the money she used to, and photographers and executives alike were complaining and making snide comments about her. Marie Grace’s influence could only go so far – companies would book a model once or twice on her instructions, but Yasmine was quickly becoming a laughingstock. It was sad, too, because the girl had started out so well. Tiny and slight, like a pixie fairy, but yet also quite proportioned and self-possessed. She stared the camera down like a model twice her age. It was quite unfortunate she grew so quickly and became such a gangly thing. Her mother must be giving her milk with too many hormones in it, thought Marie Grace resentfully. Those people had never really embraced the organic only lifestyle. They were from South Orange however, so they couldn’t really be blamed.
She pulled out Yasmine’s book and leafed through it, growing more and more distraught with the vagaries of nature as she did. If only these girls could go from their beautiful, child selves directly into their adult bodies without having to suffer through the horrific changes of adolescence! It would make her job a whole lot easier – one day they would be eligible to model for her and then, poof, the next they would have to go to an adult agency. No awkward period in between when they had to feel ugly and unwanted. Instead, she had to be the one to play God and make the call. She sighed and dialed the number for Yasmine’s iPhone even though it was 10pm on a Friday and she knew full well the child was asleep. Better to explain the truth of growing up to a 7-year-old in a message.