The walls were grey and cold, and breathing was getting more and more difficult the longer I stayed here. I needed to do my job as soon as possible to escape from this godforsaken island. This was one of the symptoms of being an elite in news business. The elderly gentleman walking in front of me was named Broadway. Grey coat and matching pants, brown beard covering his face, and wrinkle free expressions made it really hard for me to nail down his age. He didn’t stoop, but he clearly had experience in his tone. “So, Mrs. Bich, do tell me how this facility fascinates you.” “Please, Mr. Broadway, Alexandra is fine. Or even Ms. Bishoff.” “Ohh. Wasn’t Bishoff your maiden name? You’d prefer I used your ex-partner’s name?” “It actually doesn’t matter to me, Mr. Broadway. If you need to refer me, any name would do just fine. Personally, I don’t prefer my family name because of the negative connotations people attach with it.” The conversation seems very redundant ...