What she heard were numbers: More than 400 people die from accidental overdoses in Rhode Island each year. What she saw were people on the street, outside her own apartment, passed out from opioids. She learned how to administer Narcan, the overdose-reversal drug. The nonprofit organization that’s opening the center, Project Weber/RENEW, answered her questions and addressed her concerns. And eventually, she changed her mind.

“It very much became real to me,” Harris said. “We can’t wait around for people to change their direction. They’re dying.”

In February, she voted with her other council colleagues to authorize the center.

One month later, personal tragedy struck.

The sun was not yet up on the morning of March 26 when Harris received the phone call.

Her 26-year-old granddaughter, a young mother named Emoni Chaney who loved to sing and write, had been found dead in a Motel 6 in Warwick. She apparently overdosed on fentanyl.

Harris, a grandmother of 11 and great-grandmother to six, was shocked. She said the family did not know that Emoni was involved with drugs. To this day, they are still trying to put together the pieces of what happened, including by dissecting Emoni’s journals.

“We don’t know if that was her first time, or if there were 50 times,” Harris said.

But Harris was sure of one thing. If Emoni had been at a center like the one opening soon at 45 Willard Avenue rather than a motel room when she overdosed, someone would have been there to help her.

“I believe she would’ve utilized this center, even though she was ducking and dodging her family,” Harris said. “I believe she would’ve been alive today.”

The safe injection site, also known as an overdose prevention center or harm reduction center, is allowed under a 2021 state law authorizing the facilities, which must be licensed and regulated by the Rhode Island Department of Health. While there are safe injection sites in other places including New York City, Rhode Island’s will be the first state-authorized facility in the country.

A ceremonial ribbon-cutting for the center, located a stone’s throw away from a hospital, will be held Tuesday afternoon. There’s no opening date yet, as the center is awaiting the final green light from state health officials.

Once it opens, 16 people at a time will be able to access the center, according to spokesperson Annajane Yolken. The facility will not provide the drugs, but will offer clean needles, fentanyl test strips, and trained staff from partner organization VICTA who are ready treat an overdose, if needed. And when someone is ready for help, the center can connect them with addiction recovery services and other so-called “wraparound” services for housing and other needs.

Harris thinks people can probably relate to her initial knee-jerk reaction to the concept.

“I said you know, we should be helping people get off drugs, not making it easier,” Harris said. Some similar concerns were expressed on the Rhode Island House and Senate floors back in 2021, though both chambers overwhelmingly voted to authorize the centers. The Providence City Council’s authorization was unanimous.

The pilot program was slated to expire in three years, but since no facilities opened yet, state lawmakers extended the program to at least March 1, 2026.

Annemarie Beardsworth, a spokesperson for the Department of Health, said the Willard Avenue center still needs a certificate of occupancy and clearance from the fire marshal before a final walkthrough with health department officials can take place. “Once they are in compliance, RIDOH will issue a license,” Beardsworth said.

Harris, who plans to speak at Tuesday’s ribbon cutting, said she hopes to spread the message that the opioid epidemic can hit any family. “It could happen to you, just like it happened to me,” she said. “No matter what position you have, no matter how much money you have, the color of your skin … nobody’s family is exempt.”

She remembers her granddaughter for her “beautiful voice,” and from the last time they saw each other, on a summer day on Oakland Beach. A photo of that day is immortalized on a palm card from Emoni’s funeral.

On the back, her mother hand-wrote that she imagines Emoni’s battle like the song “Blackbird,” by Nina Simone.

“Now my sweet girl can soar,” she wrote.

Steph Machado can be reached at steph.machado@globe.com. Follow her @StephMachado.