Riley McPhee spent 14 years in addiction. This month, she celebrated nine months sober.
It is often said that when an addict is ready to change their life, they’re ready — though sometimes the system isn’t always ready to support them.
For years, Sault Ste. Marie has been at the centre of Ontario’s opioid crisis. In 2024, the city recorded one of the highest opioid-related death rates in the province, with over 60 deaths per 100,000 people.
Riley was just 16 years old when she was introduced to crack cocaine. Traumatized and vulnerable, she had no idea she was stepping into a cycle that would take over a decade to break.
It would take years of navigating the streets and cycling through addiction services before a chain of events — including the death of her father — led her to “rock bottom.”
Her mother, Jill McPhee, is finally rebuilding a relationship with her only child — a daughter she spent years grieving, even while she was still alive. After years of betrayal, manipulation, theft, hospital visits, 911 calls, and “tiptoeing on eggshells,” Jill is beginning to see in Riley the qualities she had before trauma and addiction took hold.
Life before addiction
In her early childhood, Riley was a competitive dancer and had a close bond with her mother. Her father, Terry, would often travel for work.
When Terry moved back to the Sault to be with his family, his health declined rapidly. He went blind overnight, had a kidney removed, and relied on dialysis due to diabetes-related complications.
Riley took on a large role in his care at a young age.
“Sometimes he would be in a severe sugar low, like convulsing on the ground, passed out blue in the face, and I'd have to call an ambulance and quite literally, save his life,” said Riley.
“At the time, I didn't realize it was so traumatic.”
When Riley entered high school, first at Sir James Dunn, then Korah, then Superior Heights, she experimented with weed and alcohol, but nothing beyond what she considered normal teenage rebellion.
At 14, she became pregnant and hid it from her parents for the first six months. Her dance studio found out, told her mom, and kicked her out of classes, worried she would be a bad influence on the other girls.
Riley had her daughter at 15 and gave her up for adoption to her aunt.
“As soon as I had my daughter and I gave her up for adoption, I got really depressed — it was a really hard thing to deal with, and I started to kind of rebel even more,” said Riley.
“I ended up moving out of my parents' house, and I met a guy in his thirties that was a crack dealer, and he said I could be his girlfriend and live with him.”
At 17, Riley went from smoking weed occasionally, to smoking crack all day.
Jill described it as losing her daughter overnight.
Riley had no idea what she was headed for — she just thought she was partying with her friends.
“But the difference is, the people I used to party with back then, at some point, stopped partying, got their shit straight, went to college and became an adult, whereas I just kept on partying,” said Riley.
“Putting that shit down never really happened for me, because it was relieving so much of my pain. That's the difference between an addict and someone that isn't an addict.”
The peak of Riley's addiction
What began with smoking crack escalated to IV drug use, and injecting prescription painkillers like oxycodone and morphine. When the fentanyl crisis hit the Sault, Riley became addicted, and when meth was introduced to the community, she started shooting that too.
“I was high all day, every day, to the point where I started having drug induced seizures from doing so much cocaine and stuff. Basically, my heart was beating so fast my brain couldn't really compute it and keep up with it,” said Riley.
Like many women who need money to fuel their drug habits, Riley turned to escorting.
At 17, she moved to Alberta with a man who was evading police. She worked fast food jobs and continued escorting, travelling from city to city.
“Wherever I went, drugs found me,” she said.
During that time, a Montreal man responded to Riley’s online ad for escort services.
“He ended up trafficking me for a little while,” shared Riley. “I ended up getting out of that after a couple of months, but I had kind of learned all the different ways to make money escorting, even better than I already knew, from watching how he did what he did.”
Riley returned to the Sault, couch surfing, and communicating with her parents on and off until a breaking point came in June of 2023. Riley had sent 65 text messages to her parents within an hour, demanding money.
“So we cut her off. I had no contact with her for almost two years, but SOYA kept me informed,” said Jill. Saving Our Young Adults (SOYA) is a grassroots addiction services hub that later became essential in Riley's recovery.
How addiction impacts families
Throughout Riley’s addiction, Jill kept a detailed journal. On July 1, 2015, she wrote: “My main reason for being, since your conception in March of 1995, has been gone from my life, living dangerously on her own, not safe, not happy, not healthy, not making good choices, wasting her life, not reaching out, not accepting help, not working, not in school, not, not, not. I can't bring myself to put into print what she is doing.”
During the early years of Riley’s early addiction, her parents tried to help in any ways they could, but in hindsight, Jill said they were enabling her.
The first major attempt at rehab came in 2015 when Riley checked into a private facility in Etobicoke for $50,000. She stayed for around 70 days, until a sexual abuse scandal involving the co-owner brought her new routine to an abrupt end.
“They shut it down and kicked them all out in the streets of Toronto. She had no money, no ID,” said Jill. “We had the Toronto Police find her.”
Around 2017, there were a few more attempts by Riley’s family to help her get sober. Each facility was private, costing over $10,000 each, though each time, Riley was either kicked out or ran away.
In one instance, Riley was kicked out of a private facility in Sudbury on her sixth day — just one day after the refund threshold. Jill and Terry sued and successfully got their money back.
By Riley’s fourth failed attempt at sobriety, Jill made the difficult decision to step back.
“I had done lots of reading, I was in online groups, I was in counselling and all sorts of stuff,” said Jill. “And I had to stop the enabling, and that meant no more paying for rehabs.”
In 2017, Jill wrote, “I don't think she is happy 99 per cent of the time. I know she has the intelligence to make all the necessary changes, but she seems to lack her will, perseverance, and motivation to do so. She tells me she's making progress. It isn't so evident.”
Barriers to accessing treatment
Riley spent years on waitlists for treatment, some lasting six months and requiring weekly check-ins by phone or computer — an expectation that was difficult for Riley, who often lost or sold her phone and had no stable internet access.
Riley also had to fill out a 50-page form that took four hours to process over two sessions. Keeping appointments, transportation, and being in the right frame of mind each session was a challenge. Even when the process was completed, there is an expiration date on the paperwork.
The private facilities that cost the “big bucks” were easier to access and offered a short-term detox and long-term rehabilitation facility all in one.
Government-funded programs separate detox and rehabilitation, requiring patients to undergo detox (typically 10 days) before being admitted to long-term rehab.
The problem is, said Riley, when people finish detox, it doesn't mean they will be accepted to a rehab right away. With nowhere else to go, many return to the streets, relapse, and have to go through the entire cycle again.
Hitting rock-bottom
“Honestly, I couldn't tell you why I didn't hit it sooner,” Riley said about hitting her "rock-bottom" nearly a year ago. She believes her parents cutting off communication and her father passing in December 2023 was a “big part of it.”
For the last two years of his life, she didn’t speak to her dad.
Near the end of Riley’s addiction, she would go to SOYA every Saturday to get a new set of clothes. The “hub” for addiction services gave Riley the tent that she lived out the final weeks of her addiction in.
“Using used to be something that was enjoyable, and it slowly, over time, became the exact opposite, like when I would use I would either go into seizures or just go into pure insanity,” said Riley. "I would just wander the streets aimlessly with nowhere to go, hiding in alleyways, and it became something I could no longer keep up with.”
“I couldn't — I was either going to literally die, or I had to change my life.”
Riley was finally ready to seek help.
When an addict is ready, they're ready
“I'll never forget the day that she called me,” said Connie Raynor-Elliott, founder and president of SOYA. “She told me where she was, and it was just like, ‘I'm coming honey.’”
With just 10 per cent battery left, she called Raynor-Elliott at the doors of Northway Wellness Centre, desperate for help.
Her hand was infected and swollen from injecting drugs, and she had been running from someone.
She was told there were no beds left, and given two bus tickets, though Riley didn’t know what they were for.
Raynor-Elliott recalls asking the staff at Northway if Riley was on the waitlist, to which they responded “yes.” She said, “Her name is Riley, what’s her last name?” and staff couldn’t provide it.
“So, then I brought her to Pauline's Place, and then I started making some calls,” said Raynor-Elliott, who was “disheartened” by the response from Northway. “She was in distress. She should have been sent to the hospital."
Through Victim Services, Riley was granted an extended 30-day “safe bed” at Northway, three times longer than a regular stay.
Afterwards, Riley was flown to Toronto to attend Renascent: Toronto Addiction Rehab Centre. The entire six-week program, including her travel and accommodations, was fully funded by Victim Services.
Then she transitioned next door to Ingles, a six–nine month program that provides free accommodation and meals for those who remain sober and adhere to a 1 a.m. curfew.
The next stage offers subsidized housing based on income, allowing residents to live independently while working within the program or pursuing education.
Riley is now nearing the completion of the Mental Health and Addictions Counseling program at George Brown College.
Northway’s role in the Sault's network of addiction services
Brandy Sharp, Director of Communications at SAH, declined to comment on Riley’s specific experience at Northway, due to confidentiality, though gave a written response about operations and areas for improvement.
Sharp wrote in an email that admissions are not first-come, first-served, but based on social determinants of health, including withdrawal severity, medical needs, and vulnerability. When beds are full, individuals can join the reservation list and receive “resource guidance” and “comfort measures,” such as food and bus passes.
Sharp acknowledged that service gaps still exist.
"We recognize that while individuals are encouraged to seek help when they are ready, the system may not always be prepared to receive them immediately,” she stated, adding that managing withdrawal is just one step in recovery.
To address this, Northway works with community partners to provide transitional housing and case management services. Their New Day Program offers structured support for individuals who have gone through detox and await a longer-term bed.
Northway has also partnered with the John Howard Society to assess housing and support needs through the Service Prioritization Decision Assistance Tool (SPDAT). This allows staff to advocate for clients within the broader system and reduce barriers for those navigating the process alone.
“Additionally, the province has made changes to the intake process for individuals accessing services to address their substance use,” Sharp wrote, meaning that by the end of the month, people accessing services won't need to fill out 50 pages of paperwork.
Despite these efforts, wait times for rehab remain long, and housing options between care are limited.
“Areas for improvement include reducing wait times, working with community partners to advocate for transitional housing options, and enhancing funding for outpatient and day treatment programs like the New Day Program,” said Sharp.
"Northway Wellness Centre is one part of a larger network. We work closely with hospitals, law enforcement, and community organizations to prevent people from falling through the cracks. But the demand for services continues to grow, and so do the challenges."
Building a stronger safety net
While gaps exist, Riley's success is a testament to the services and advocates that helped her along the way.
In the last year, several new projects and funding dollars prove that local leaders building a stronger safety net for the most vulnerable community members.
Raynor-Elliott recently received the mayor's Medal of Merit, and with the help of dozens of community members, SOYA relocated to a facility far better suited for their needs. SOYA will continue to offer addiction recovery meetings, as well as provide meals, clothing, resources, and emotional support to those in need.
Ontario is directing $529 million towards Homeless and Addiction Recovery Treatment (HART) Hubs, and has responded to high statistics in the North. The Algoma district will get two facilities, one operating out of the Sault's Community Resource Centre (CRC), and the other at Maamwesying North Shore Community Health Services.
The sites provides 24-hour emergency response, primary care, mental health services, including addiction care and support, social services, legal support, employment services, and access to Indigenous-specific support.
HART Hubs will not provide supervised drug consumption or needle exchange services, leaving CMHA to determine the future of its existing needle exchange program at the Community Resource Centre.
The District of Sault Ste. Marie Social Services Administration Board (DSSAB) and the Indigenous Friendship Centre will also receive funding to expand shelter capacity over the next four years to prevent homelessness and increase access to affordable housing, given that homelessness in the city has risen by 72 per cent in recent years.
Riley's victory a win for all
“The fact that Riley is where she is now is a miracle, because it had to be so many little pieces had to fall into place,” said Jill.
She now texts and calls her daughter daily, visits monthly, and takes it one day at a time.
“I never expected to have her forgiveness and have her back in the way I do now, but I wouldn't trade it for the world,” said Riley.
Jill used to get embarrassed about her daughter's addiction, but now she sees it as a way to open up the dialogue.
"You just have to give people a chance and show them that they're worth it," said Jill.
"She's a warrior. I always knew she could do it," said Raynor-Elliott.
"I know a lot of people gave up hope, and I kept saying that there's always hope. She is a living example — and the key word is living."
The Local Journalism Initiative is made possible through funding from the federal government.
Local Journalism Initiative/Sault Star