📸

EPILOGUE

Schapelle Corby was arrested with drugs at the airport a year after Marco. He was optimistic that her successful clemency bid was a good sign for him, never expecting incoming President Joko Widodo to be so gung-ho on mass executions.

Marco was convinced he'd walk free one day. After all, he'd defied death before.

All my family already die — my father, my mother, my brother, my grandmother, my two uncles; eight people already die. But you know, Marco is still alive. No worry, no worry. Because for sure I'm going to go out from here.

The harsh third-world prison failed to break his spirit until the final days, but it did take a physical toll. His injured leg always hurt and zero healthcare resulted in gum disease and all his teeth falling out.

I want to go home. I'm very tired. People don't care about me here. Look, I have no teeth. I have to ask them all the time to bring me to a dentist, but they say you give me $1,000 and I don't have the money, he said showing me his gums.

Visiting Marco was never depressing. 'Hey, sing that song again, Marco,' I asked him one day. Instantly, he burst out singing, 'I never can say goodbye, every time I think . . .' then abruptly stopped. 'I don't know, what kind of song to you want? Aretha Franklin or something else?' he asked earnestly, still never wanting to disappoint his audience.

It was his dream to one day fly back to Brazil and soar high over Rio's beaches again in his hang-glider.

But in the end only his ashes flew home.

He was fifty-two years old.

📸