The scooter helmet dropped on the ground, and she barely noticed. The beckoning of the song was too strong for her to care about it, though, and she continued towards the maze.
It felt strange, as if she was intoxicated and not quite in control of herself. The closer she got to the maze, the harder it was for her to think straight, and by the time she had crossed the gardens and was almost by the entrance of the maze, most of her doubts had been dampened silent by the singing. Who was that? She had to find out.