What does Paul cbelive Bee's hobby?

Choices:
A. not enough information
B. Project Big Brother.
C. Duval.
D. Sanctum Sanctorum.
Project Big Brother.
Back at their house by the cemetery, Paul and Chloe found Bee in her room, what Paul referred to as her sanctum sanctorum - although no one else ever got the joke, and he refused to explain the comic book reference. As always, lighting was minimal (as opposed to Bee's workshop out behind the house, which was flooded with fluorescents). A bank of TV sets and computer monitors covered one whole wall, arranged on a precarious system of metal shelves that Bee had installed herself. A low, flat coffee table squatted below the glowing displays, supporting three keyboards, a bank of video editing tools and four different phone carriages. Bee sat in her accustomed place - in the midst of a pile of cushions on the floor, fiddling with a mouse in one hand and typing on one of the keyboards while she talked quietly into her headset.
Paul and Chloe didn't bother to knock as they came in - Bee already knew they were there. Paul glanced at one of the screens mounted on the wall. Its display, divided into four quadrants, showed various images from inside the house, including the front door they'd just come through and the stairs they'd just climbed. The screen next to it - which Paul himself had salvaged from a bar on Duval that'd recently renovated into a finedining restaurant - showed images from four other cameras that covered the house's exterior. Nothing happened within fifty yards of their Crew's house that Bee didn't see, and if she had her way, that omniscience would soon extend to cover the entire island.
"So, Bee, how goes Project Big Brother?" Paul asked.
"I wish you wouldn't call it that," she replied.
"Sorry, but I have to call it something."
"You could call it something nice. Big Brother sounds so mean."
"What's mean about a reality show?" said Paul, joking.
"What isn't bad about a reality show?" countered Chloe, stepping in to defend her friend.