Kyle Wilson – Playoff Stats (First 3 Games)**

*PPG: 14.3 | RPG: 5.1 | APG: 2.4 | SPG: 2.7 | FG%: 47.6 | 3P%: 38.9*

The numbers didn't tell the whole story.

Kyle stared at the stat sheet taped to his locker in Atlanta's visitor locker room, his fingers tracing the steal column. Two-point-seven per game. That's what the analysts would talk about. What they wouldn't mention: the deflections that didn't result in turnovers. The chasedown sprints that forced bad shots. The way Trae Young's shoulders slumped every time Kyle checked back into the game.

"Media's calling you Young's shadow," Marcus said, tossing a roll of tape at him. "You good with that?"

Kyle caught it one-handed. "I'm good with winning."

---

### **Game 4 – First Quarter**

Atlanta came out swinging. Hard screens. Harder fouls. Kyle took an elbow to the ribs on the first possession, the pain radiating through his torso as he fought through a down screen.

No call.

Young hit the three right in his face.

"Rook's limping already!" Young chirped, backpedaling downcourt.

Kyle exhaled through his nose. *Control the rage.*

Next possession: Kyle curled off a pin-down, caught the pass, and rose up over Young's late contest. *Swish.*

He jogged back without a word, but his eyes never left Young's.

**Celtics 28, Hawks 25 – End 1st**

---

### **Second Quarter – The Run**

With the bench unit in, Kyle took over.

- **10:12:** Strip on Bogdanovic, coast-to-coast and-1

- **8:34:** Corner three off Brown's drive-and-kick

- **6:01:** Chase-down block on Johnson's fastbreak dunk attempt

The Hawks called timeout. The crowd booed.

Udoka grabbed Kyle's jersey. "They're scared. *Finish them.*"

By halftime: **Celtics 62, Hawks 48**

Kyle's line: **15 pts, 4 stls, 2 blks**

---

### **Third Quarter – The Test**

Atlanta adjusted. They started running Kyle off screens, forcing him to defend non-stop action. His lungs burned. His legs screamed.

Young finally shook him with a double-screen action, hitting a floater as Kyle stumbled.

"Getting tired, shadow?" Young smirked.

Kyle said nothing. Just pointed at the scoreboard.

**Celtics 85, Hawks 72 – End 3rd**

---

### **Fourth Quarter – Closing Time**

With 5:41 left and Boston up 18, Udoka subbed Kyle out. The game was over.

But Young wasn't done.

As Kyle walked to the bench, Young "accidentally" bumped him hard enough to send him stumbling. The refs missed it.

Kyle turned slowly.

Marcus grabbed his arm. "Not worth it."

Kyle nodded. Then he leaned toward Atlanta's bench and said one word loud enough for everyone to hear:

"*Pathetic.*"

Final: **Celtics 112, Hawks 94**

Series: **3-1 Celtics**

---

### **Postgame – The Notebook**

Kyle sat alone in the training room, ice wrapped around his knees. His updated playoff averages glowed on his phone screen:

*PPG: 15.8 | RPG: 5.3 | SPG: 3.1 | FG%: 49.2*

He flipped to a fresh page in his notebook and wrote:

*"Shadows don't talk. They hunt."*

Then he texted Ari one word:

*"Next."*

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