"Bruce," X says, looking up at the wobbling chandelier hanging precariously above their position.

It is a very large chandelier.

X darts forward as the floor stills, mere seconds ahead of the sound of long-frayed rope snapping.

The quick two-step that she whirls Bruce and Amy into is purely accidental.

X would not know a two-step if someone drew a diagram on the floor.

But her timing is impeccable.