If you’re anything like me, you’re watching the new Netflix documentary about the Gabby Petito case with interest—and at least a small amount of horror. After all, if we did not already know the end of the story, who would think that a vivacious, attractive travel influencer with a sunny disposition and “van-life” following would end up dead in the wilderness. The thought of anyone committing this kind of crime is terrifying, but the reality that Gabby was murdered by her fiancé, Brian Laundrie, is especially difficult to comprehend. How can someone be hurt by the person who ostensibly loves them? And most importantly, how can we stop this from happening again?

As an advocate against domestic abuse, I am no stranger to the impact of controlling relationships. But what’s too often missing from the narrative—Gabby’s story, as well as the people we support at Shalom Task Force—is the pivotal role communities and systems can play in enabling abusive behaviors.

Gabby Petito’s homicide did not occur in a vacuum. Her relationship with Brian Laundrie contained many “textbook” hallmarks of domestic violence. Gabby’s friends relayed a story where she went out to a bar to socialize, against Brian’s wishes. When she arrived at the bar, her ID was gone—Brian had taken it as a way of controlling her choices, and punishing her for not listening to him. Another story, this time from a waitress in a tourist town along the couple’s’s travel route, relates that Brian went out of his way to emphasize that he was Gabby’s fiancé—that she belonged to him. Brian was aggressive to both Gabby and waitstaff in that incident, leading her to return to the restaurant to apologize for him.

The most significant example of the dynamics in Gabby and Brian’s relationship came in the widely seen bodycam footage of a police stop in Moab, Utah. After a passerby called 911 reporting they saw a man hitting a woman, police pulled over the couple. With terrifying speed, the narrative shifted from Brian attacking Gabby to the reverse—an assertion that Gabby had actually slapped Brian, and Gabby tearfully accepting blame for the situation, claiming she was “OCD” about keeping the van neat.

This interaction reads all too familiar to those of us who work in the orbit of abusive relationships. It’s extremely common for victims to blame themselves for the violence, an extension of the abuser’s manipulative messaging that they only hurt the victim because they deserved it. Brian’s description of Gabby as “crazy” is also telling; abusers frequently use this word to describe their victims—gaslighting them and warping the perception of observers. To an untrained third party, the abuser’s mask of calm and control can stand as stark contrast to the victim’s emotional, seemingly hysterical state, making the abuser’s narrative appear more believable and authoritative. Indeed, by the end of the couple’s interaction with Moab police, Brian had succeeded in manipulating the situation, and was being comforted and put up in a hotel while Gabby slept in the van alone, having narrowly avoided arrest.

Gabby’s story may seem far away, but versions of it play out in the frum community every day. Abusive behaviors are often ignored, explained away or blamed on the victim. (“Let’s just say there are two sides to this story” is an all-too-common refrain.) Above all, it’s easy to feel that there isn’t much we can do about abuse—after all, we’re just regular people, right? But actually, there is so much we can all do to make a difference in abusive situations and avoid tragic outcomes.

Here’s a place to start:

Family and Friends: Telling someone you love that you’re concerned about their relationship is not for the faint of the heart—but it’s a critical step to creating a safer community for everyone. If you notice worrying signs in a relationship (possessiveness, fear, changes in personality—trust your gut) it’s important to say something. Only the person themselves can decide what to do next, but they deserve to be aware of what you’re noticing. Make sure you approach your friend with sensitive and thoughtful language and that your friend knows he or she can come to you for support if they need it.

Community Leaders: The police officers in Moab surely received nominal training on domestic abuse, yet they failed to notice the warning signs in front of them. Let’s not make the same mistake. We need to ensure that our rabbis, rebbetzins, kallah teachers, guidance counselors and mentors know about abusive dynamics so they can identify it when they see it—and guide community members accordingly.

All of Us: Don’t be fooled by social media. Couples (like Gabby and Brian) can present a deceptively rosy picture of their relationship, despite dangerous dynamics behind the scenes. Remember that we will never fully understand a relationship unless we’re in it, and that the image on the outside doesn’t always match the reality behind the scenes. By educating ourselves and our kids about the building blocks of healthy relationships, we can make sure our marriages are as good on the inside as they might look on the outside.

In the wake of this case, there are grieving families, stunned relatives and distraught friends. And the American public. All the people who looked for Gabby and hoped for good news, only to hear the worst. Abuse may happen behind closed doors, but it affects all of us and tears the fabric of our communities.

Let’s work to create a world where there are no more stories like Gabby’s—because even one loss is too many.

Keshet Starr is the CEO of Shalom Task Force, which works to combat domestic abuse and foster healthy relationships. You can find Keshet on Facebook, Instagram and LinkedIn at @keshetstarr. Keshet lives in Hillside, New Jersey, with her family.